


Commemoration

by AvengersTime



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Brain Injury, Clint's a good friend, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Thor just really wants a kitten, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 80,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersTime/pseuds/AvengersTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident causes Tony to lose his memory of the Avengers and all their time together. Oh, and he forgot that he's married to one of them. He isn't pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crashing Down

Steve promised that he'd stay awake for Tony's return, so he lay down on the couch at Stark Tower, wrapped in a blanket and watching shows he couldn't really make sense of…still. It was mostly teenage drama (God, was every 16 year old girl like that these days?) and annoying game shows with obnoxious hosts.

So at 1 in the morning, he got a little concerned. Tony was late to everything, but…

The phone rang. He figured it was Tony; who else would call at a time like this? He picked up the phone on the counter at the bar and pressed "Talk".

"Hello? This is Steve."

" _Steve? It's Nat. There's been an accident._ "

"Accident?" Steve's reaction was immediate and he stood up from where he was on the couch, waiting for the woman to go on with the details. "What kind of accident? What happened?"

Natasha's heart felt heavy as she tried to make out the words. " _A...car accident. Happy was driving Tony back from the conference with Hammer Industries, and a truck hit them from the side. They said it was a drunk driver. Happy's fine, but Tony...it doesn't look good._ "

In an instant, Steve was out the door and heading to his bike. "I'm on my way," he barely managed to Nat, trying to keep himself calm. He could not freak out yet, he couldn't. He needed to stay calm so he could get to Tony. "What's hospital? What room?"

" _He's at New York Downtown hospital, room 214. I'll meet you at the front entrance, okay? Clint and I are 2 minutes away." she told him, swallowing the lump in her throat. "He's going to be okay, Steve. He always is._ "

"I'll... I'll be there soon," Steve hung up the phone and bit his lip. Natasha was right; Tony would be fine... wouldn't he? God, he hoped so. Before he had a chance to even get upset he hopped on his bike and headed off, arriving at the hospital in practically no time. "Hey..." he found Clint and Natasha right away. His eyes searched around wildly.

Natasha gripped his arm and began steering him toward the elevator. "I'll deal with the entire registry. When you get to the second floor, turn right and go to the admission desk. Ask for Dr. Reynolds; he's Tony's specialized doctor and no doubt he's there."

Steve felt like his was in a daze when he walked into the hospital. God, he hated these places. "Right..." he mumbled, though he did as instructed and found himself at the admission desk upstairs. "Excuse me," he said politely to the woman sitting there. "I'm looking for Dr. Reynolds? I'm also here to see Tony Stark."

David Reynolds recognized Steve standing at the desk, knowing he was asking about Tony. "Steve?" when the distressed man turned, he smiled tiredly, "I'm Dr. Reynolds, your husband's personal doctor. I know about the shrapnel in his heart and how it works and such. We have a lot to talk about, Mr. Stark-Rogers."

Steve turned to the doctor and gave him a small, yet distressed smile. "Nice to meet you," he murmured and let out a sigh. "Can I see Tony? Is he... Is he alright?" He was, wasn't he? Tony had to be fine, he was... Tony. He was always fine.

"I'll let you see him in a minute. I just want you to understand the extent of Tony's injuries," Reynolds began, his kind smile dropping a little. "Physically, Tony will be fine. He has four broken ribs and a fractured left wrist, and a bad head wound. Those will heal fairly easily. Mentally, however, is a different story. His head connected with the window on impact, causing a traumatic brain injury."

Steve sucked in a breath, trying his best not to wince at the thought of Tony being hurt. Seeing him in pain killed him, no matter how much he saw it. Given Tony's erratic activities, that was a lot. "Brain injury?" he asked after a moment and his frown deepened. "Well he'll be okay, right? People these days... they recover from head injuries."

Dr. Reynolds studied him for a second. "Well...in a lot of cases, yes, eventually. But most of the time, the recovery is highly unpredictable. Anything could happen with the stability of the brain. In Tony's case, it seems that the only way to tell how his brain is functioning is when he wakes up. Because his body also needs time to recover from the shock, we're keeping him sedated for now. Tomorrow, we'll take them off and by all means he should wake up."

Steve listened to the doctor intently, feeling like he was getting a headache from all of this. "Okay," he finally murmured. "So he could have something wrong, but you won't know until tomorrow?" The thought of waiting until tomorrow to see Tony awake was very disappointing, but he understood there was a reason for it. "Well... alright," he finally sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"His room is right over there. You can sit with him as long as you like, and that's only because I know Mr. Stark will be rather upset with me if I didn't allow you anyhow, and he's not in too critical condition. He's out of the ICU but still being kept close on watch. I'd suggest you get some shut eye sometime tonight," Dr. Reynolds instructed. "His nurse will stop by in about an hour, or you can press the call button if anything out of the ordinary happens. I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right?"

He took a deep breath as he glanced towards the room, suddenly feeling extremely nervous. "Okay," he looked back to the doctor and forced a smile. "Thank you." He then headed towards the room, feeling a little shaky as he pushed the door open and headed in.

_Oh God._

His breath caught in his throat when he saw Tony and for a moment all he could do was stare. He looked so... so…he didn't know, but he didn't like it.

********

With Clint on her heels, Natasha briskly began walking to Tony's room. She didn't like elevators, and Clint knew it, so they both headed to the stairs without saying anything. Her nerves were frazzled and her stomach was flipping with worry for Tony. They weren't exactly best friends, but they knew a lot about each other (more her knowing him, with her intense secrecy) and after a while he could grow on anyone. She felt Clint's hand grip hers tightly in assurance and she smiled at him thinly before entering Tony's room...

Clint sucked in a breath as they headed up the stairs. He knew that this accident Tony had been in wasn't good, and he wasn't really sure if he was ready to see the billionaire. Hospitals creeped Clint out, especially if someone he cared about what injured. Ah, well, the more pressing matter to him was Steve- the poor guy was probably worried sick. "Well, here goes," he squeezed Nat's hand as they walked into the room, seeing Steve already in there.

Steve's hand was holding Tony's with an intense force, his eyes permanently glued to his face even though he knew that he wouldn't wake up until tomorrow. An obtrusive oxygen mask had been placed over his mouth and nose, and his body was covered in lacerations and he could see bruises formed and still forming on his face and arms and God knows where else, his arm was set in a plaster cast and Steve could bet that his ribs were bandaged too under the hospital gown. Tony hated hospital gowns; and he never let Steve forget it. He won't be happy that his husband allowed them to put one on him when he wakes up.

He's going to wake up, and he'll be fine. We'll be home in a few days, watching reruns of pointless shows...Steve told himself firmly.

He looked up when he heard a knock on the door. Clint and Natasha looked at him with concern, looking for answers eagerly but not wanting to bombard him.

"He'll be okay." he said thickly, trying to smile.

Clint let out a breath when he saw Tony laying there. Damn. That car had really done a number on him, huh? He shook his head slightly and then turned to Steve, forcing a small smile. "Of course he will. This is Tony we're talking about. Bastard's too stubborn to let this stop him, you know?" He murmured.

Natasha allowed her lips to quirk into the slightest of smiles at that as she headed over to Steve. "Did the doctor explain everything?" she asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity. She was wondering exactly when Tony would wake up.

Steve nodded to Natasha. "At least, as far as I could understand. They're going to take him off the sedatives tomorrow, and he should wake up sometime in the morning." he pressed his lips together tightly.

Feeling their eyes on him, he looked at the floor. "They said his brain might be damaged. That anything can happen. I've seen what brain injuries can do to people, and its scared the living hell out of me. I don't...I don't want..."

"I see," Natasha nodded before she gently laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Hey, it's going to be fine," she said softly, reassuringly. "I'm sure Tony'll be okay. Brain injuries... yeah, they can be serious, but-"

"The guy built a device to stop shrapnel from crawling into his heart in a cave. He's gonna be fine, he's a tough one." Clint interrupted, but then gave a soft smile to Steve.

Steve nodded hastily and composed himself, sitting up straight in his chair. "You're right, this is Tony. He's always okay, no matter how bad conditions are."

He chuckled a little suddenly. "He'd slap me if he kept hearing me say that over and over again. But I'm going to end up saying it all night..."

Natasha patted his shoulder again. "It's okay," she murmured and then sat down. "I think he'd understand you're worried. We all know he'd be if the roles were reversed, you know?"

"He'd be throwing a fit," Clint chuckled.

Steve returned Clint's laugh. "He'd be calling the best doctors out there, even if they're already in the room."

It suddenly occurred to him. "Did you call Thor and Bruce?"

"Thor's in Asgard; can't get back right now," Clint shrugged. "And Bruce is on his way."

He nodded. "Bruce is going to get torn up. We should have some comfort food for him later. Doesn't Tony do that when Bruce gets upset? He always does something, and Bruce is okay again."

"I'll make sure to have something for Bruce," Natasha nodded at that.

"You guys can sleep," Steve offered.

"Are you going to sleep at all?" the archer asked, but he knew the answer whether Steve answered truthfully or not.

"Um, maybe," he smiled sheepishly.

Both Natasha and Clint shook their heads, but they settled into the chairs. Clint had the ability to fall asleep anywhere right away, and he proved this when his snoring began. The readhead looked like she wanted to bash her friend's head in, but instead she turned away and tried to focus on something else.

Steve yawned and lay his arms crisscross on the bed, putting his head down. I should stay awake. Tony might wake up earlier. Yeah, I'll stay awake...

Steve woke feeling more tired than he's ever felt in a long time. Blinking the eye crust out of his eyes, he glanced at his watch. It was 11 AM. His jaw dropped. It'd been 2 AM when he fell asleep! What if Tony-

But Tony was still asleep, in the same exact position. His chest piece was still glowing. Steve frowned. Where did Nat and Clint go? He then felt something on his forehead.

He brought a hand to his head and felt a sticky note. Confused, he peeled it off and read it:

_Went to go get some breakfast. Be back at noon. - C and N_

Steve absently hoped they'd bring back some coffee for him. Oh yeah, coffee sounds real good. Groggy, he rested his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees.

This sure as hell wasn't the first time Tony was injured, and maybe not even the worst, but it definitely was the scariest. At least when he broke a rib or two or got a concussion during a mission he'd recover quickly. Brain injury was a whole new territory.

He wondered, now, just how different things might be if his nightmare came true. He closed his eyes again, and let himself doze off...again.

The instant Tony was conscious; he was gasping and tugging at the oxygen mask on his face. What the hell was this? Where was he? He blinked wildly a few times and- shit, why was it so bright... and where the hell was he? - Until his vision cleared. "Where...?" he croaked out before gasping in pain because, dammit, it hurt to even breathe!

Steve heard coughing and a gasping from Tony and he was at his side in a second, holding his hand and patting his face.

"Tony! Tony, hey! Can you hear me?"

"Where...?" Tony croaked, his eyes darting everywhere but him. Steve needed to see his eyes, needed to see his eyes filled with love every time Steve looked at him.

"Tony...?"

As Tony kept coughing, Steve hastily pressed the call button, and gripped Tony's shoulders.

"Tony, listen to me, its Steve! You're fine!"

Tony finally got the oxygen mask off of his face so he could speak. "Fine..?" he repeated before he looked up at the man that was speaking to him. A look of confusion came over his face and he pulled away, looking around again as he hissed in pain. "Who're you, some kind of doctor?" he asked Steve, just as a nurse rushed into the room. What the hell was going on here?

Steve looked at Tony with shock as one nurse began to usher him out of the way. What the hell was Tony playing at? Tony could be an asshole sometimes, but never to Steve. Whenever Tony was hurt, he used the same line when he woke up from a concussion or something.

"Good morning, sunshine."

This time, Steve got a look of pain, confusion, and unrecognizable look. _Anything can happen...highly unpredictable..._

No, it wasn't possible. Tony remembered him. He knew that he was Steve Rogers from the 1940's, frozen for 70 years. They got married a year ago. They were planning to adopt when they could. They were happily in love.

_Who're you?_


	2. Check Out and Don't Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoever said that starting over would be a blessing, Steve would like to see. And punch.

One of the nurses started asking all sorts of questions, while another began poking at him and taking blood. Tony shook his head at the both of them, wanting them to leave him alone. "Uh, boo, go away," he mumbled, looking around for someone, or _something_ familiar.

"Hey..." Natasha, of all people in the world, walked up then, followed closely by another man. "What's going on? Is..." she trailed off. "Oh, he's awake!"

"Finally, a familiar face!" Tony huffed, his voice hoarse. He doesn't think he's ever been this relieved to see the elusive spy, after all, she'd manipulated him with ease and just about led him with a blindfold into Fury's hands. Pesky, pesky hands. "Natasha!"

Steve's heart dropped his to his stomach at that. He only recognized Natasha? He took note that Tony barely glanced at Clint, who he laughed and pranked with all the time. They were practically best friends. This was just surreal. No way this could have happened. This was all a dream. Steve was passed out still next to an unconscious Tony. Any minute now, Tony would wake up and tap Steve until he woke and demand that he be discharged, he had a meeting later in the day. 

For a moment Natasha stood there, looking at Tony for a moment. "What?" she glanced to Steve, took in the hurt look on his face, before she realized. He didn't remember, did he? Tony didn't know who Steve was, or Clint, apparently. "Tony..." she slowly approached him.

Tony looked at her. "Who the hell are they?" he motioned to the others. "And what the hell happened?"

Clint stuck close to Steve. "Shit..." he muttered, looking at the floor, "Shit, shit..."

*********

Tony had never been so confused in his life. The last thing he remembered...he was in his workshop not too long after the whole incident with his arc reactor poisoning him and the fight with Ivan Vanko. What day was it now? Why was he here, in a hospital, no less? And when had Natasha _cut her hair_? The looks on everyone's faces, both Natasha and the other two men, were even more worrying. They were looking like someone had shot a puppy.

Inhaling slowly, he ignored the rattling of his ribs and attempted to sit up. It didn't go well. His torso screamed in protest and he decided that laying back wouldn't be so bad for now. He regarded the group with cautious eyes. "Okay, enough. What happened? Why am I in a damn hospital, with you? Where's Pepper?" 

Steve watched as Natasha walked to the bed and he fidgeted, hoping that maybe this... this was temporary. Tony was going to remember here soon, right? He just had to..

"You were in an accident," he called out to Tony, his breath catching in his throat as he glanced down to his wedding band.

Natasha took a deep breath as she looked to Tony. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly as a start.

Tony averted his gaze from Steve and looked at Natasha. "Like elephants have stomped on my head and chest," he smirked. "Who are these guys? Friends of yours?"

Steve bit his lip. "He really doesn't remember..." he whispered to Clint, his hands trembling slightly. How could he forget him, his husband? "He doesn't remember," he said again, sounding broken.

Natasha smiled. "I bet you do," she nodded and then glanced to the other two. "You don't remember the other guys here?"

Tony raised his eyebrows as the two men whispered to each other. "Uh, no. I've never seen them in my life," he said. "What...what kind of accident was I in?"

Steve could see that Tony was clicking the few pieces he had together. Could see the written clearly on his face. Steve couldn't tell if Tony could tell that he had amnesia, but he did know that Tony knew something was fishy was up.

"You were in a car accident." Natasha said calmly. "Got pretty banged up and you hit your head," she explained to him. She then motioned to the other two, first motioning to the archer. "This is Clint. He's... well, Tony, he's one of your best friends. And this," she paused and motioned to Steve, "Is Steve. He's, well," she seemed to be struggling with what to say about him. "You're sure you don't remember him?"

Steve twisted his wedding band on his finger, chanting the same thing in his head.

_Please remember me. Please remember me. Please remember me. Please._

Tony began digging around his jumbled and pounding head, trying to place Clint and Steve's faces. But he couldn't; just nothing clicked. But the blonde guy, Steve, was looking at him with...he couldn't describe it. It just looked so intense.

"No...no, I really don't recognize you, uh...Steve. Or Clint. I'm sorry, I-" Sharp pain pierced his head, and he hissed in a breath. He put both hands to the sides of his head and groaned as a ringing echoed through his ears. "Ah!"

Everything got blurry from there. He closed his eyes as the ringing got louder and louder, and the searing pain ripped through. As he craned his body forward, more pain erupted from his chest. He indistinctly heard the nurses, too many hands touching him, and he groaned, struggling to push the intruders away. He was already fading in and out. One voice was louder, more panicked than the rest.

 

No, no, no, this wasn't right. Tony wouldn't... he wouldn't forget him. He wouldn't forget their marriage. Right? He was rapidly blinking back tears and searching for something to say, when suddenly, something seemed to go wrong. With Tony.

"TONY!" He exclaimed and tried to move forward to Tony, who was moaning pitifully as he held his head, face half buried in the pillow. But he was suddenly being ushered out, along with Clint and Natasha, by a nurse. "No..." he begged, tears threatening to spill over as he tried to see into the room. "What's happening? What's going on?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the doctor from last night- Reynolds, was it?- and was torn with feeling relieved and angry. How could the doctor not predict or at least _mention_ that Tony was going to wake up without memories? "Emily!" the man barked. "What's going on?"

"Doctor, the patient is experiencing the aftershock of the trauma to his brain, and..." the frustrated nurse eyes went to the trio.

Reynolds put a hand on Steve's shoulder, and Steve tensed. "Tony will be asleep for a few hours again, Mr. Stark-Rogers."

"But he-" Steve's eyes narrowed. The doctor tightened his grip.

"We should talk...about Tony," he said firmly. Steve slumped, defeated, and nodded. "Why don't we take a step into my office?"

Natasha, bless her, stepped beside Steve. "I'm coming with him."

From how that sounded, Reynolds obviously doubted there was any changing her mind, so he nodded as she told Clint they'd meet at the cafeteria later.

Steve shook his head, stomach flipping. He felt like he was going to vomit. Or cry. Or both. Tony had to be asleep again? But he had just woken up... He could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks, not caring to hide them from the shock of it all. He followed the doctor blindly, praying that he wouldn't be about to hear more bad news. He didn't think he would be able to handle it, really.

Natasha patted his shoulder as that headed to Reynolds's office. "It's okay," she said very softly.

As Reynolds led the two in to his office and offered them to take a seat, he put on the "mask", a mixture of professionalization and sympathy that Steve had seen on many doctors in the past that had been put in charge of the Avengers medical mishaps. Embarrassingly, there was a lot. Clint had a proud list of trips to the infirmary from his missions, and he took no shame in it. Tony, despite his attitude of trying never to show weakness, challenged this list. Steve didn't like this one bit. Clint did. 

Natasha held Steve's hand in an intone of comfort as Reynolds sat down in the chair behind his desk. She could feel Steve trembling, and she squeezed tighter. He looked over with tearful and red eyes, but nodded to her. He stopped trembling.

"As I said last night, brain injuries are highly unpredictable in the first round. And as I'm sure you've already noticed, amnesia is now a factor in the side effects," neither Steve nor Natasha cut in, so he continued, "What doesn't he remember, as far as you know?"

"He...he remembers me, and I met him..." she thought about it, "Over two years ago. But..."

"He doesn't remember me," Steve said hoarsely, shaking his head. He didn't seem to realize he was speaking aloud. "How can he...?"

Natasha couldn't meet her friend's eyes. "Dr. Reynolds, is there any chance Tony will get his memory back? Do you know if it's temporary?"

"I'm afraid there's no way to tell right now. You can't force memories into the human mind," their faces fell, but he went on, "however, you can trigger them. Tell him what's happened, use small details, and maybe that will help. Or maybe they'll come back in time following the accident. This isn't uncommon, you know. There's many head-trauma patients that I've seen that will wake up and not even remember their name, but over a course of a few weeks they remember everything..."

Steve tried to remain calm as the doctor spoke, he really did, but the tears just wouldn't stop falling. He didn't hear anything past the first sentence.

No way to tell if Tony would regain his memory.

_No way to tell._

What if he didn't...? Oh god. The thought had Steve squeezing his eyes shut and he finally managed to look to Natasha, gasping softly. "We should bring pictures," he managed. Pictures from home might help, right? Perhaps the picture album containing the photos from their wedding? That could help, he figured.

Natasha nodded at that. "Sounds like a good idea, Steve," she said and then looked back to the doctor. "When will Tony be awake again?"

"Sometime late tonight. But before anything, I'd like to speak with him first, just to see what I can establish from his condition. If that's okay with you, Steve?"

Steve barely nodded and stood up. "I'm...I'm gonna go sit with him."

He could almost feel Natasha and Reynolds exchange worried glances as Steve walked out of the office.

"Thank you, Dr. Reynolds," he heard Natasha say to the man before she turned, following after Steve with a small sigh. "Hey..." she reached out to gently grab his hand, "Want me to sit with you?"

Bruce suddenly came sprinting over then, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "Hey, guys..." he looked between them, panting, "What's...?" he trailed off, clearly wondering why they were looking so upset. "Is Tony- is he okay?"

Steve saw Natasha about to explain, but his mouth opened without his permission and it all came out in one breath: "Tony has a brain injury and he woke up a little while ago and he didn't...he didn't remember me. Or any of the Avengers. He doesn't remember me," Steve rambled all too quickly, "He barely even looked at me. Like I was a stranger. And that everything we've been through together..."

Before anyone could react, Steve shot up from his seat and ran out of the room, feeling numb and tired and he just...needed to get away.

Bruce blinked, trying to take it in. A familiar antsy presence stirred inside him, and he pushed it down. Now was not a time to deal with the Hulk. "He what?" Did Steve say that Tony didn't remember them? _Not good. Not good at all._

As Steve moved out of the room, Bruce started to go after him, but Natasha gently grabbed his arm. "Let him go," she said softly. "I think he needs a few minutes alone. This is all so..." she sighed softly, "it's just crazy."

Steve could feel even more tears start to stream down his cheeks as he ran down the stairs and out of the hospital entrance doors. He didn't bother putting on his helmet, just got on his motorcycle and took off.

He didn't know where he was going. His tears made his vision blurry and his head wouldn't cooperate with him, so he just drove. He passed the cars, never looking anywhere but straight ahead.

" _You know, sometimes that motorcycle scares the living shit out of me. I mean, how old is that thing anyway? Can't you get a car? I have lots of cars. Safer cars._ " Tony's voice echoed. Tony hated his motorcycle, which Steve always found funny considering all the stupid shit he does than can get himself killed.

When he first met Tony, Tony looked untouchable to people. He'd been publicly disgraced enough to handle bad reviews, insults, anything that comes his way. He seemed to be able to recover from everything. But as he got to know him more, Steve found out that he really wasn't. Not when people he cared about was in danger. Tony will drop everything and run to save somebody, anybody, really, from a crisis. No matter what the cost of the consequences of himself.

A mission, he recalled, with S.H.I.E.L.D. Steve was working a solo went awry, and he was on the side of the road somewhere bleeding from a stab wound, sure that he was done for; no one knew where he was. He'd woken up in a hospital with Tony by his side. Natasha told him later that Tony had defied Fury's orders to stay out of it and looked high and low for him until he could barely stand. The rattled fear in Tony's eyes made Steve see a whole other side of him, a part that he kept hidden with his eccentric personality.

He then realized he was in front of Stark Tower, which was now the home base of the Avengers. Tony had insisted changing it, because most of the building was "boring". The team had spent months here, training, bonding, nothing Steve would have ever imagined the group doing in the first months of the Avengers. They actually enjoyed each others company now. Hell, they'd even had their wedding here.

" _It's kinda weird how things turn out, doesn't it, Steve?_ " Tony spoke again.

Steve wanted to start crying again, but he was dried of tears.

*******

Natasha let Steve take his time. She knew that right now he probably needed to have a little bit of time away from the hospital, and she understood why completely. She didn't particularly like hospitals either, and she knew he was probably freaking out of Tony's situation. 

God knows she'd feel the same way if it was Clint in that hospital bed. Romantically involved or not, Clint was probably the closest human being to her. She kept occupied, trying not to think of the "what ifs" considering Tony- mostly, what if he never regained his memory? What if he didn't remember his friends, his husband?

No, she told herself. That wasn't going to happen. This was Tony freaking Stark; he was going to be just fine. Silently, she chuckled. What was the world coming to if the Black Widow was going soft? She was such a realist, usually people telling her what they thought would happen pissed her off. Now she was doing telling herself the same thing.

"So Steve's been gone for a while," Bruce commented a bit later from where he stood outside the hospital room, looking inside as if to check on the still man lying in the bed. "It could be getting close to time for Tony to wake up. It's 9 o'clock."

"I'll call him."

The agent pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number, relieved when the other answered. "Steve. You alright?"

Steve almost hung up. He didn't want to deal with anything right now. He wanted to stay in Tony's main room at the top of the Stark Tower, sitting on the round-about couch in the drop living room, looking at the pictures that Steve had forced Tony to put around the room. The room was only lightened by a lamp next to the couch, shadows dancing. The silence had been incredibly strange over the hours. The tower was usually a flurry of activity.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

Natasha didn't sound the least bit convinced. Steve could easily detect it from her voice. " _You should come back. Tony is going to wake up soon._ "

Steve felt the lump in his throat make a return. "He doesn't know who I am. Why bother?"

" _Steve Stark-Rogers, don't you dare talk like that or I swear I will find you and knock some sense into you," Natasha's voiced raised angrily. "He needs you. He needs you because what if he remembers and you're not there?_ "

"Nat..."

" _The doctor said spending time with people he doesn't remember and showing him photos might help. So, are you going to mope or are you going to do what you do best; help someone?"_

"I'll...bring some photos. Be there in 20 minutes." Steve said blankly. He felt incredibly guilty for what he said now. How could he ever give up on Tony?

" _Okay,_ " her voice was softer, " _Steve, it's going to be fine._ "

Suddenly the phone was snatched from Natasha's hand and it was Clint on the line. " _Don't start feeling sorry for yourself or I'll come kick your ass," he stated, before, "and Nat's right. It'll be fine, okay?_ "

Steve wasn't sure. "I..."

" _Steve,_ " Clint's voice was firm. " _Bring the pictures. Bring little things from home. Those will help, okay? You know Tony, he's too stubborn to let a thing like this get him._ "

The super solider let out a breath. "Right," he admitted softly and snapped the phone shut. He then stood up, getting to work on collecting the pictures he wanted for Tony.


	3. Should of Put A Ring- Oh, Wait, You Did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth's a bitch.

Waking up this time felt a lot more comfortable, Tony thought dryly. His ribs ached and he felt a little dizzy, but other than that, fine. He cracked his eyes open and squinted at the bright light. He was about to call out to JARVIS to dim the lights, but his fuzzy mind reminded him that he was in the hospital, not at home.

"Hey, Tony. Are you feeling better?" Natasha was looking at him genuine concern. This was weird. He always knew Natasha as calm, blunt, and unreadable. She never showed this much emotion.

"Yeah, a lot better." He said, and he meant it.

"Tony, what year is it? Actually, the month, too?" Natasha inquired. _Okay, random..._

"What kind of question is that?" He scoffed. "I don't think I'm reliable to that, considering I just woke up. Now that I think about it, I have actually no idea what day it is..."

"Just humor me."

"All right. Um, November 2010?" This didn't seem to be the right answer.

Natasha closed her eyes for a second. That would be about 3 months since he met her. The Avengers hadn't "assembled" for another month or two.

Tony was looking at her strangely when she opened her eyes again, his face scrunched together in concentration.

She got little agitated by it. "What?"

"I don't know. You just seem...different. And a lot nicer to me, now that I think about it," his eyes widened. "We're not...you know...?"

Natasha's eyes widened as well. Tony thought they were...dating? Any other day if someone had assumed that, she'd laugh. But now it was Tony assuming, Tony who was married happily. It wasn't often that Natasha was rendered speechless, but she didn't really know what to say to Tony. How was she supposed to tell him that he was married to Steve, a man that he didn't even know he'd met? Telling him that probably wouldn't go over too well. She was just about to open her mouth to finally speak when the door opened and in walked Steve.

"I brought some pictures and stuff from-" he stopped and looked up then, eyes widening when he saw the man sitting in the hospital bed. He was awake. "Tony." His voice sounded a bit hoarse and he just stared for a moment, before breaking the gaze to put the armful of stuff down. Swallowing, he looked towards Natasha with raised eyebrows, as if to ask if there was any change in his husband's memory.

When Natasha shook her head slowly, Steve sat down in the extra chair by Tony's bed and avoided his questioning gaze. Natasha, to break the awkward silence, took the cardboard box off the end table near the door and offered it to Tony.

"I don't like to be handed things," Tony smirked, making both Steve and Natasha chuckle. The tension faded a little but not as much as they would've felt comfortable with.

"All right, here," Natasha rolled her eyes as she scooted closer to the bed, putting the box on his bed. "You can sort through it yourself."

The man stared at it for a minute, and then looked from Natasha to Steve. "How much have I lost?"

"What?" Steve jerked his head up to Tony's face, alarmed by this question. It hadn't occurred to him at all that Tony might be aware of any memory loss. Now he wished he'd taken the time to ask.

"How much don't I remember?" Tony snapped. "Stop acting like I'm going to break apart. What day is it?"

At the question, Steve shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He didn't really know what to say to that. Sure, he could just straight up answer the question, but actually saying something like that would most likely get Steve upset again. Sure, it might seem silly, but that's just how he was right now. Just when he thought the tears were gone, he could feel a lump forming in his throat again.

Not to mention, he sure as hell had a good reason to feel emotional. His freaking husband had lost his memory- it was to be expected that he was upset!

"Um..." he fiddled with his wedding ring and looked away, avoiding Tony's gaze and expectant request of,

"Well, someone spit it out."

Natasha cleared her throat and said quietly, "It's December, Tony. December 2012."

The words were so softly spoken Tony almost missed them. December 2012, that's...that's two years! Feeling like a hole had just opened up in his heart to add to the one he had in his mind, he sank back down into the pillows. Anything could have happened. People could have died people he was close to. And the company? His heart raced as he stared at the ceiling, struggling to comprehend that that was then, and this was now.

_Now_ was frightening.

"I'll have the doctor come in and take a look at you," Natasha left the room silently. Tony didn't speak after that until Steve and Natasha returned an hour later to his room. The doctor had already gone, and Tony was frowning as he looked out the window, eyes distant. 

"Tony? What did the doctor say?" 

"Stuff." 

"What kind of 'stuff'?" Steve asked. 

"Pretty cliche things. Recovery will be difficult, I'll be frustrated and all that heartfelt shit. Nothing I didn't already guess." 

Steve swallowed after a moment and motioned to the cardboard box. "I brought some things I thought might help," he said softly. "Pictures and stuff. It could trigger a memory, maybe, so..." he trailed off and shrugged lightly, not knowing what he would say when Tony found the photos from their wedding. He just had a feeling it would be awkward. The man didn't know he was married, after all. How would he take that? After all, "playboy" had kind of been part of Tony's agenda before Steve. He probably shouldn't have grabbed those. 

"Of course," Natasha spoke up then, "you can look at the photos whenever you're ready to, Tony. No rush."

Tony blinked from his daze and glared hotly at the cardboard box. "I don't want to laugh and smile and...fucking pretend like it was good old times. I want to _remember._ "

Natasha sighed a little. "That's what the pictures are for, Tony. To see if it will trigger anything."

Steve closed his eyes and turned his head. This sort of reaction from Tony was something he wasn't surprised by, honestly, but he didn't like it. He wanted him to be willing to look through their pictures and _try_ , not just get pissed because he couldn't remember.

Tony just huffed angrily and ran a hand down his face, and then something seemed to occur to him. "I...I have a wedding ring on my finger," his voice was bewildered as he brought his hand from his face and looked at it. "I'm married?"

Steve shot a look to Natasha, panicking a little, but Natasha smiled wanly at him before turning back to Tony.

"Yes," Natasha said after a moment in response to Tony's mini freak out over the ring on his finger. "You're married."

The same look of bewilderment stayed on the billionaire's face. "Well, to who?" he demanded. "Who the hell did I marry?"

Slowly, Steve held out his left hand, to show the matching wedding band on his finger. "Me," he said very quietly, still looking away.

"What?" Tony gasped slightly, looking, really looking at Steve for the first time. "I-I don't...I don't even know you...but I do. I don't. But...you know me."

Steve smiled, pained. "That's about right."

***********

He couldn't process this. He was married. He was married to a man he doesn't even remember. When had they even met? When did Tony decide to actually settle down for a long-term relationship? He's only had one long girlfriend back in his early twenties, and it didn't appeal to him again after he was dumped. He tried to remember talking to Steve, falling in love, kissing him, even, because that's what Tony always remembered when he was trying to remember a long lost girl looking for more love.

Steve leaned back in the chair and rubbed his face. "Kind of crazy, I guess," he said quietly and then looked towards Natasha with a sort of 'help me' kind of expression on his face. For once, he didn't know what to say to Tony- what could he? This Tony didn't know him, didn't love him. What was he supposed to do?

The door opened then and in walked Clint, balancing four cups of coffee. "Heyo!" he called out. "Doc said you could have a little bit of coffee," he looked to Tony. "Gotcha some. Got everyone some, really."

"I'll need it," Tony said quietly.

Clint frowned; what had he missed? He seemed to keep missing all the important conversations lately, which was strange, since he could usually catch a conversation anywhere. Steve looked like he wanted to shake Tony's shoulders and yell something at him.

"We, um, filled Tony in a little." Natasha winced.

"Oh," Clint said, handing Steve and Natasha their coffees and walking over to Tony to hand him one, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you saved the world!"

Tony took the coffee and drank greedily, thankful for the caffeinated beverage at a time like this. He really did need it. "Saved the world? Course I did," he shrugged after a moment, his hands still wrapped around the coffee cup. "Anything else important happen? Don't tell me I've got a kid or some shit," he muttered. "Good lord."

Steve sucked in a breath at that. No, they didn't have a child, but the thoughts of their conversation regarding adoption suddenly began flying back to him. They'd just begun looking into the process before the accident and he had been so excited; a family with Tony would be like a dream come true. He let his mind wander now, as he imagined the man holding a tiny little baby in his arms and cooing down to it. God. He could see it so clearly, he wanted it so badly, and it hurt.

But. No. Tony didn't even know who he was now, so that couldn't happen. Not for a while, if ever.

Tony regarded Steve's silent shake of the head and nodded, clearly not taking the hint. "Probably a good thing. I'm awful with kids."

"Oh, I think you've improved, being a superhero and all." Steve said lightly, smiling as Tony grinned. For a split second, and he savored it, it was like old times. Keep talking to him. Tell him stories, make him laugh. Maybe...maybe this will turn out all right after all...

"I need to get out of here."

"What? Out of the hospital? Tony, you've been here for a few days." Steve told him. "They sure won't let you go that quick with a head injury."

"Are you sure you're not my adopted mother, you hen?" Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling, and Natasha lightly slapped him on the arm as Clint laughed.

"Most days, it feels like I am," Steve teased back.

Tony chuckled a little before he looked to Steve again. Tony couldn't imagine the frustration he must be feeling. Steve clearly loved him more than life itself, and Tony couldn't return the favor anymore. Roles switched, he'd be angry. He'd be furious...he'd not be able to handle it at all, actually. When problems arose, he liked to run until he could bounce back with an idea. Not a plan, just a little idea that form into a plan after it was put to action.

Tony couldn't think of any ideas to fix this. "Steve, I..."

Steve looked at him, his smile fading but holding a hopeful edge. Innocent blue eyes. Hardened, but still innocent and so...honest.

"I'm sorry I don't love you anymore."

Steve gazed at Tony for a moment as he waited for the man to say something. What was it? Did he...? No, he wouldn't be remembering something, Steve told himself. Right? He didn't think he was but-

"I'm sorry I don't love you anymore."

Those words hit Steve like a freight train.

I'm sorry I don't love you anymore.

I don't love you anymore.

He suddenly found himself blinking rapidly and trying to force the smile from just a moment ago back onto his face, but he just couldn't. Those words... Hearing Tony say that... It was one thing to know his husband didn't remember him, but to say it in words like that killed Steve. Made him feel like someone had just ripped out his heart and stomped on it, and whether Tony meant to or not, he had honestly hurt his feelings.

"It's..." he finally managed after a moment, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's okay."

No, it wasn't okay, actually. But what the hell was Steve supposed to do? Scream at Tony? Yell in his face? Yeah, none of that would solve the problem.

Clint cleared his throat, attempting to diffuse the awkward feeling in the air. "Well I'm sure you're gonna be back to normal in no time, Tony."

Tony suddenly realized how...wrong that came out. "Wait...I'm sorry. I don't mean it like that. I...I don't really know. I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you."

"Tony..." Natasha began.

"You'll have to bear with me, Steve. I will do everything I-"

"It's okay, Tony." Steve told him, but a hard tone was creeping on the end of his words. He was clearly trying to keep himself together, to not outburst in anger. Tony almost wanted him to yell, because all this touchy feely sad shit was starting to get on his nerves.

"No, it's not!" he challenged.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, telling himself just to stay calm. No matter how frustrated he was right now, he was not going to lash out at Tony. It's not like he could really help the situation he was in.

"Yes it is," he finally ground out before standing up, avoiding gazes of the others. "Excuse me, I need some air." With that, he abruptly left the room.

Natasha stared after him for a moment.

"Nat," Clint said quietly.

She nodded, before standing and following after Steve.

Tony didn't stop any of them from leaving. He sat there, fuming, regretting everything that came out of his mouth. But he knew it was necessary. He had to deal with this on his own, like he always did with his problems. Clearly, Tony married to Steve had gotten past that, but unmarried Tony had no problem.

He didn't need anyone's help.

********

Natasha trailed along behind Steve as he paced to the end of the hallway and back. "I figured he'd act like this."

Steve laughed humorlessly. "Really? Did you? Because I didn't."

"Steve, we have to give him time."

"The more time we give him the more time he has to realize, that he doesn't have to remember everything! Tony in there doesn't want to be a part of the Avengers, much less be with someone to spend his life with, share all his secrets that I know he already told me." Steve was pinching his arm fiercely to not yell.

"It's still Tony. There's no changing that." Natasha said soothingly.

Steve clenched his jaw before speaking to Natasha again, trying to keep his voice low. "It might still be Tony, but it's not the Tony I've been married to. What... what if he decides he doesn't want this, Nat? What if he-" he paused for a moment to take a calming breath, once again trying not to snap, "-what if he... divorces me? Then what? I will have nothing. The Avengers won't be the same. My group of friends won't be the same. My whole damn life won't be the same!" he shook his head and turned away.

He already knew he wouldn't be able to handle that.

********

Clint winced inwardly as Steve and Natasha's voices carried out into the room. Because he could not simply stand there and listen, he shut the hospital room door shut. Well. This was a bit awkward now. "So, uh, you okay?"

The glare he got from Tony told him that, no, it was not okay. For a minute, neither of them said anything, and Clint could tell Tony wasn't taking the silence well.

"So, you're my best friend these days, huh?" Tony's voice had less scorn. At least he was making an effort on remembering someone.

"More or less."

"You seem like a decent guy. A bit hardened. Lemme guess, archer army dude?"

Clint looked at him in surprise. "I knew you were good at reading people, but not that good."

"Obviously I had more plans to amaze you in the future. It's not that hard to guess. Your arms are well formed and muscled, your eye catches everything, and you just...seem the type. Where'd you serve?"

"I'm an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D. You're a bit off."

Tony nodded. "S.H.I.E.L.D...If I remember correct, Fury's a bastard."

"And your opinion hasn't changed since you began working for him." Clint laughed heartily.

"Work? As in, taking missions? I thought I was only a consultant."

"He did that at first to keep your nose out of his business before the time was right."

"And so? What happened then?"

"The Avengers happened," Clint said easily as he took a seat in one of the hospital chairs. "Threw together a bunch of badass superheroes and bam, we're saving the day," he gave a small shrug at that. "It's pretty cool."

"And I willingly work for Fury?"

Clint couldn't help but chuckle at the comment. "Yes, you do."

Tony recalled peeking out an "Avengers Initiative" folder when he'd signed the consultant papers. Fury was more manipulative than he thought. After the mess with his palladium poisoning, Director Nickolas Fury had come by his ruined mansion

"We're part of the superhero squad, huh?"

"Yup. 6 of us total. Usually we're put together in world crisis, hence our first mission." Clint explained. He was glad that he could talking something useful and not make everything so...weird.

"...Who's on our team, then? Me, you, Natasha..." Tony shuffled though his mind to think of the other 4 who he could be working with.

"There's Bruce. He's a wannabe scientist, but he's also the Hulk. You know, big green guy? Don't call him that though. We call him the other guy."

"I've heard of him."

"There's Thor, he's a god...oh, and Captain America."

That took Tony by surprise. "Captain...America. Like, 1940's hero Captain America?"

Clint realized he should have maybe kept his big mouth shut. He wasn't sure if either Tony or Steve was ready for this information to be revealed. Clint sort of just shrugged, not knowing what to say now. He definitely didn't want to make things awkward by saying something he shouldn't. In any other situation he wouldn't care, but this situation was different from usual.

"Well," he finally said and took a swig of his coffee, "you gonna look at any of those pictures from home?"

*********

Out in the hallway, Steve pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. "God, it's only been a day and I feel this stressed out. What am I going to do?" he looked to Natasha then, seeming helpless. "I cannot handle this. Villains I can handle; regular stress I can handle, but not... this."

"I know, Steve, it's hard for all of us. Bruce is holed up at his hotel and refuses to see anyone, Clint feels awful and God knows he can't handle the awkwardness-"

"You're lucky. He remembers you."

"We definitely didn't get off to a good start." Natasha said lightly, trying to loosen him up a little.

"Doesn't matter."

"But Steve-"

"No, I'm serious. He remembers you, Nat, and that's... it's not fair!"

"Its not fair," Natasha repeated. "Well, of course it's not fair! Did you suppose that since you went through a couple of...speed bumps along the road in the beginning, it's all going to be apple pie and laughs after that?"

"No, I-

"Your husband needs you to get yourself together and try everything to help him, Steve."

"He doesn't want my help. He's made that clear." Steve said coldly. "Did you not hear?"

"I heard fine. I heard a man who doesn't know what's happening around his life anymore. Who's scared out of his wits and sick of us trying to baby him with pity." Natasha's boiled annoyance was coming to a snap. "How do you deal with Tony when he's being stubborn, Steve? On any other day?"

"I'd...give him a good reason."

"Then give him one _now_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback so far! :D


	4. Cheeseburgers and Painkillers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment please? :D They're awesome! Knowing people are reading this story here and are enjoying it encourages me to keep posting all the chapters.

"No, _Clint_ , don't change the subject. That rattled you. Are you not aware that Captain America died in an air crash before the war even ended?" Tony's eyebrows raised. "A copycat?"

"No."

"What was his name again? I can't recall it, but-"

"Tony, please..."

"It was in my father's files. He worked with my father. It's on the the tip of my tongue."

"Tony!"

********

Steve just stared at her before he finally broke the gaze and just let out a sigh. "You're right," he muttered and rubbed a hand over his face. "Sorry. This is all just... you know."

"I know."

"Yeah," he slowly pushed himself away from the wall before he glanced back towards Tony's room. Was he ready to go back in there, really?

Tony stared at Clint, expression determined. "Dammit, what was the name? I swear I can almost get it, but-"

"Steve," Clint finally snapped before he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. God, wasn't Tony stubborn? But he should be happy now, he told him what he wanted to know. Wait... _shit._

"Steve..." Tony confirmed. "That's it. Steve Rogers."

"That's the one," Clint said a bit sourly at being interrogated (and essentially giving in), "He was-"

"Frozen in the ice. I loaned Fury my resources to help fish out the area to find what he could," Tony's eyes widened considerably as gears began turning and realization set in. "Steve's right out there, isn't he? How in the hell am I married to a man that's supposed to have been dead for 70 years?"

"That's not my story to tell."

********

Steve took a deep breath and readied himself for another round. He noticed the door was closed, and he was grateful Clint took measures so that Tony didn't hear them talking. He had enough to worry about, he supposed. He turned the handle and put on a serene expression...

"Steve Rogers! I know who you are!"

Steve's jaw dropped the instant those words left Tony's mouth. "Yeah," he finally said when he realized he should probably speak. "That's me. Do you...?" he trailed off for a moment, a part of him suddenly hopeful. Had Tony remembered everything? Or just a little bit? What was the deal? He moved closer to the bed (though his movements were slow and careful), waiting for an answer.

Clint shrugged when Steve looked to him and he glanced at Nat, his eyebrows raised slightly. It was clear he was afraid of this getting a bit awkward. She just glared back.

"Captain America. Just a normal kid from Brooklyn wanting to make a difference, ended up becoming the most famous symbol for America during World War 2. You worked with my father, Howard Stark. I read about you as a kid." Tony exclaimed, excited now.

Steve's heart plummeted. "Oh. Right, yeah. You'd mentioned that before."

"No, I-" It dawned on Tony then. "I guess I have. But you have to tell me, again, how did you survive that time in the ice?"

Steve realized that his excitement wasn't because he'd remembered something important, but now he had something to mull over and figure out scientifically to take up his time.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck before he sat down, shrugging slightly. "You know, superhuman abilities and all that," he mumbled. He couldn't help but feel extremely disappointed right then- Tony might remember him, but he didn't remember them, and that was heartbreaking for Steve. He didn't want another fanboy. He wanted his husband.

Natasha cleared her throat. "Is that all you remember?" she asked bluntly, looking at Tony expectantly.

Tony felt like a real ass now. They all looked disappointed. He'd hoped that picking something up about what he didn't know would at least ease the tension. It didn't. So much for that. "That's all."

Steve closed his eyes and rested his head on his hands. "Tony, I swear, you're going to be the death of me."

"I sure as hell hope you were warned of that as we said our vows." Tony tried to grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I was."

"Well, then, there you go. Now, can someone please smuggle me a cheeseburger, since you refuse to get me out of this place? And see if I can get out of this gown for sweat pants or something. I feel like I'm a prisoner in this. And, Nat, can you do me a favor?" Tony's eyes lightened up considerably.

Natasha rolled her eyes. _Here it goes_ , she thought, _Tony has begun his endeavor to annoy the hell out of everybody so they'll have to throw him out of the hospital._

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes as Tony began to rattle of request. He'd been wondering when the genius would start this.

"I could go for a cheeseburger," Clint stated as he abruptly stood up. "I'll go sneak some in for us." Nodding, he left the room, though it was clear he was probably leaving to escape the awkward situation.

Natasha sighed. "You want a favor?" she finally asked, staring at Tony with a dull expression.

"Ouch. With that look, I'll take it I'm not that different when I ask for something. Are you still my personal assistant?" Tony asked.

"No."

Steve looked at her, confused. "Yes, you are," he said, "Fury ordered you to continue to be in case- Oh."

Natasha glared at Steve until he got the hint, then at his bewildered expression, she felt like bursting out laughing. Steve Rogers just could not lie, or know when to keep a lie.

"So you are still," Tony's expression was amused. "Okay, I need you to threaten the nurses or the doctors or whoever has the power."

"The power to get you out, you mean?"

"Yes."

"No."

"C'mon!" Tony whined. "At least ask when I can get out of here so I can make a deal with them to get out earlier."

"Tony, you shouldn't try to rush out of here. Not after the way you were injured," Steve said, concerned for his husband. A small, worried frown crossed his features then. "Not to mention, the doctors won't release you until they see fit, even if you are Tony Stark."

Natasha nodded at that. "He's right. And I'm not going to threaten the workers here."

Tony let out a frustrated sigh. "Oh, fine," he said sourly, dropping the topic, for at least the moment. "Can I at least get actual pants to wear? This hospital gown is killing me here. Seriously."

"Oh," Steve moved to the cardboard box then. "I thought to bring some. Figured you'd start asking..." he trailed off as he pulled the pants from the box, a very slight blush forming on his cheeks when he realized what he'd done. Lately, Tony had been sleeping in a pair of Steve's old sweatpants (despite the fact that they were really too big on him), and in his emotional rush at the tower, had grabbed that pair instead of ones that actually belonged to the billionaire. Well. Now he felt like an idiot. Tony wasn't going to wear these pants.

Tony looked at the pair of sweatpants and pretended not to notice Steve's blush. Why would pants make him blush? He took the pants from Steve, and the fabric felt so soft he could use it as a pillow. He also accepted a plain black t-shirt, grateful for the dark color to hide his bandages that were wrapped around his chest.

"Uh..." Tony looked to Natasha to Steve, then to the pants, hoping they'd take the hint.

Steve blinked in realization. "Natasha and I will be out in the hallway. Holler when you need something." The words were said very casually, but Tony could see a pained look on Steve's face, though it disappeared as quickly as it came.

When the door closed, he threw back the covers and swung his feet off the bed. So far, so good. He slowly stood on his feet, swaying a little but otherwise all right. He threw off the hospital gown, and looked down at his bandaged chest with a frown. In the skin exposed, dark purplish black bruises decorated his abdomen and upper chest, even more leading up to his fractured wrist, which was supported with a thick white cast. Disgusted by his appearance, he took the pants and slid one leg in, then the other, and right when he pulled them up to his waistline his vision blurred.

_"Tony, why are you wearing those old sweatpants?"_

_Whoa._

Tony felt his head explode with lightning, black spots clouding his vision. With his lack of concentration, he lost his balance and attempted to stand from his hunched position. He slipped and toppled to the floor flat on his stomach, causing his broken ribs to explode in intense pain. _"Ah!"_

*********

Once in the hallway, Steve leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Good grief," he whispered softly and took a deep breath.

Natasha opened her mouth and started. "Are you-"

"Don't ask me if I'm okay. I think you know the answer to that." he cut her off, his voice flat.

"Right."

Steve let out a short sigh and pushed him away from the wall. "I just can't-" The sound of a pained noise stopped him then and he whirled around, ready to rush back into the room; however, a hand on his wrist stopped him.

"You know he probably won't like it if you just go bursting in there."

"But did you hear that? It sounded like..." He shook his head at her protest and pulled away from her to open the door and hurry inside.

********

_"Because I want to,"_

_"They're too big for you,"_

_"I don't care,"_

Voices pounded through his head like a stampede. Flashes of pictures drifted through like a strobe light. Groaning, he huddled in on himself, trying to find some relief from the pain of his ribs and the dizziness.

"Tony!"

A clearer voice, much sharper than the others, cut through his daze. Steve. He didn't resist as Steve's strong hands lifted him under the arms and dragged him to his feet and sat him down on the bed. Natasha gently lifted his legs and Tony simply laid back, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt awful.

Helpless because he could barely do anything, scared because everything was different. Had he just...remembered something? It seemed like it. He couldn't remember that ever happening, since he'd never been back at Stark Tower with Steve before to his knowledge. Oh, God. Should he tell them? He didn't want to, not yet, so when he opened his eyes and saw Steve's concerned face, he turned away guiltily.

*****

Out of pure habit, Steve reached over to smooth Tony's hair back, something he did quite often. It wasn't until after he pulled his hand back that he realized what he'd done. Oh well. Blushing very slightly, he tried to meet the other man's gaze. "Tony, are you okay?"

The billionaire shrugged, though he immediately winced at the action. Probably wasn't a smart thing to do with broken ribs. "Fine," he muttered.

"Tony..."

"I said I was fine!"

Steve took a step back then, the same worried frown still etched on his features. "What happened? Did you fall?" he asked, obviously not caring if the other man snapped at him again. He was going to get an answer.

"Yes," Tony hissed through his teeth. His ribs continued to throb and creak.

"I guess that proves our point on you staying here." Natasha said, a little smugness in her voice. She tossed the shirt to him. "You probably want to put that on unless you want to show all upper body glory. Do you want me to help?"

"No," Tony said firmly, "I can do it."

"Aren't you still in pain?"

"No." Tony lied, and he knew full well they weren't fooled one bit.

"In that case, you probably won't need the nurses to give you some painkillers."

Tony hesitated. "Okay, it hurts a little."

"That's what I thought," Natasha said, and walked out of the room to get a nurse.

"Steve," Tony said to the man, "um...can you, um...you know, help me with this shirt?"

Steve let out a small sigh and watched Natasha go before his attention snapped back to Tony. "Of course, yeah," he said immediately and reached for the shirt. He then stepped closer, hoping he would be able to help Tony without hurting him. "Okay," he paused for a moment. "Just tell me what I need to do to help you."

"Put the shirt over my head, that's all. I can barely lift my arms, so..." Tony set his jaw tight as he lifted his arms and Steve quickly put the shirt on over his head. Tony sighed in relief as the cool air conditioning was finally blocked from his bare chest. He shivered.

"Are you cold? Cause I can-" Steve immediately began looking around for a blanket or some sort.

"Calm down, mother hen, I'm fine now." Tony smirked, and Steve flushed a little as he sat down in the chair, hands in his lap.

"Why'd you fall down?"

"Because my ribs were hurting," Tony lifted an eyebrow at him, "why else?"

"Yeah, but..." Steve shook his head, "never mind."

He understood that Tony's ribs were hurting, but he didn't see that as reason to fall down flat on his face. Still, he wasn't going to question it. "If you say so," he shrugged.

"I do."

"I know."

A silence fell over them then and Steve rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say. It was strange, really, that he was sitting here feeling awkward and apprehensive around his own husband, someone that he had been able to just be himself with for so long. He was just afraid of saying the wrong thing right now, but it felt so... weird. But then again, with the Avengers, things were always weird.

"So I think Clint should be back with that cheeseburger for you soon," he finally blurted.

"I'm looking forward to that," Tony said, feeling his stomach growl. The only thing that he's eaten since he woke up 2(?) days ago is Jell-O. He hates Jell-O. "Cheeseburgers and painkillers. Dream come true."

"Now I'm jealous," Steve rolled his eyes.

Tony laughed. "Awkwardness aside, Cap, you're not a bad guy."

"I know," he smirked just slightly and leaned back in his chair. "You've told me that before."

Tony chuckled at that. "Oh, have I?"

"Many a time."

Another silence settled over them then and the two just looked at each other, until finally, Steve motioned to the cardboard box. "Do you want to look through anything in there?"

Tony swallowed hard. When he had touched put on the pants, a memory of him "borrowing" them from Steve had been triggered. So, their assumptions had been right; objects that had memories attached to them would trigger them into his brain. Thinking about how it made his head ache considerably, no, he didn't really want to. But he couldn't tell Steve that, because then he'd ask why. And the why would make things much more complicated. They'll want to shove everything in his face, trying to get him to remember everything, so that they'll have their Tony back. He was still "past" Tony. They didn't want him, because he could sure as hell guess that he'd changed for the best over the past two years. "Sure," he smiled tightly.

He lifted the box onto his lap and pulled out the first object. A picture. It was a picture of him, Steve, Natasha, Clint, and two other men Tony could only assume was Thor and Bruce. All of them were smiling. Except the one with the long blonde hair and the beard, he was trying to smile and stare weirdly at the camera at the same time. He also saw that Tony had an arm around Steve, and Steve's arms were wrapped around his waist.

He watched Tony's expression, instantly knowing that the other man wasn't too thrilled about looking through this box of stuff. He could just tell. "You don't have to look at it if you don't want to," he said quietly, his gaze focused on the picture in Tony's hand. "I just thought it might help." He gave a shrug at that and then flicked his eyes back to the other man's face, as if waiting to see if this picture had triggered a memory of some sort.

"I'll keep looking," he said quietly. Tony put the picture back in the box, and Steve found himself holding his breath as he picked up the next one. A wedding picture.

He always liked that picture. He'd told Tony that he could wear whichever suit he wanted, and naturally Tony had worn a white suit that Steve had told him he hadn't liked a month before. But he hadn't really minded that much, because it was such a fun and...happy day. He couldn't remember a day being so perfect. This picture showed Tony and Steve looking at each other with love in their eyes, arms wrapped around each other.

Tony gasped, and the picture fell from his hands. Steve caught the photo before it could clatter to the floor. He looked at Tony in concern. "Tony? Did you remember something?"

He glanced to the photo once, his heart clenching as he wished Tony would look at him like that again. Soon. He wanted to see those eyes full of love; he needed to see them...

Snaking the thought from his head, Steve went back to the task at hand: seeing if the other man was okay right now. "Tony?" his eyebrows raised in worry.

"Hey, I'm back!" Clint barged in through the door, a grin on his face. "And I bring gifts."

**********

Tony couldn't be more grateful for Clint than he was right now. He smirked as he accepted the Burger King bag, and looked back at Clint. "How did you know I like Burger King the best?"

Clint scoffed. "Give me some credit, man."

"Oh yeah, I can see why we're friends," Tony said, unwrapping his burger and taking a huge bite out of it. "Mmm."

"Get a room," Clint teased lightly.

"This is my room. What's your excuse, Barton?" Tony asked the archer.

Clint chuckled and then abruptly whipped his head to Tony, "I never told you my last name."

 _Um, how did I even know that?_ Tony thought to himself. "Cap told me," he saved quickly, and could literally feel Steve's questioning gaze on him.

Clint caught sight of Steve's confused look, though he didn't say anything about it. "Here," he finally said and handed Steve the burger he'd gotten his as well. "So did I miss anything good while I was gone?" he looked from Steve to Tony, eyebrows raised. "Eh?"

The other two stayed silent.

"Well, alrighty then," Clint said slowly, sitting down in the extra chair by Tony's hospital bed and taking a huge bite out of his burger. "Where's Nat?"

"She went to get him some painkillers," Steve said, and then added at Clint's expression, "His ribs."

"Ah. Well, you might as well say your last words, then, Tony. They'll knock you out until morning." Clint smirked, "with head injuries, you know, they're paranoid. Once you say something starts hurting they act like you're going into cardiac arrest."

"I'm aware," Tony mumbled darkly.

"But, hey, there's nothing better than some painkillers, yeah?" Clint finished lamely before biting into the burger he'd gotten himself.

Natasha entered the room then. "A nurse will be by in a moment to give you more medication. She went to get it," she told Tony, who merely nodded at her.

"Thanks, Nat," Steve spoke up and smiled at her.

Natasha noticed the box on Tony's lap. "Did you get to look through it?"

"A little," Tony told her, still happily munching on his cheeseburger. "I'll look tomorrow, too."

She looked at Steve, asking silently if Tony had remembered something, but Steve shrugged and pursed his lips.

A nurse walked in then, smiling as she held up a small syringe. "I have your medication, Mr. Stark."

Tony didn't pause in the eating of his cheeseburger. He merely waved the woman over, still chewing as she began to administer the pain killer through the IV. "You'll be feeling the effects of this very soon."

Steve watched and waited for Tony to succumb to the effects of the drug. The billionaire finished the last of his cheeseburger, laid back in his pillows, and closed his eyes. "Good night, Tony."

"Hey, Cap?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't...um...give up on me, okay? I'll try. I promise I'll try." Tony said, his voice slurred as he slipped into unconsciousness.

"'Course not, Tony. I'll never give up." Steve said solemnly, knowing Tony couldn't hear him. He hesitated for just a moment, until finally leaning down to press a kiss to Tony's forehead. It was a habit of Steve's, and since the other man was knocked out, he was going to do it. He then stepped back and looked to the others. "I think he remembered something earlier."

Clint's head snapped up. "He did?"

"Yeah. He was looking at a wedding picture," he said softly and sat down. "And he got this weird look on his face and dropped it, but he wouldn't say anything about it."

"Ah, well, I bet he's just trying to see if it comes back on its own." Clint said.

"Or he doesn't want to remember at all." Steve muttered, hoping Clint and Natasha wouldn't hear. Judging by the expression on Natasha's face, she had. "Natasha, did you talk to the doctor again?"

"Yes. He said that tomorrow he'll be running some tests on Tony. If he clears those to his satisfaction, we can bring him home in a few days, a week minimum if there's no other complications that arise. But he'll have to be bedridden for a couple days at home, too."

"Like that's going to happen," Clint scoffed.

"I'll make sure he rests," Steve sighed, though he already knew that was going to be quite the task. Trying to get Tony to listen always was.

Nat shrugged at that. "I'm sure he won't be feeling up to much, though. And his painkillers will keep him down for a while."

"True. But still... You know Tony."

"Yes, I do."

"Bruce had Fury get a hold of Thor. He'll be here in a few days," Clint commented, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. "God, I'm tired. I haven't slept in...I don't even know."

"We should all get some sleep," Natasha looked pointedly at Steve, who looked at her in a way that said, _no way I'm leaving_. "Are you ready for all this, Steve? It's going to get worse before it gets better, and you know it. We can't sugarcoat it any longer."

"I'm ready."


	5. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make it longer, I swear. But for some reason I couldn't get the text posted. So have a short chapter until I can figure out the technical difficulties. Sorry!

To Tony's distaste, he had been strictly forbidden to leave the hospital until his doctor felt that he was well enough. The days following Tony's awakening were filled with tests that Steve barely knew the meaning to any, like MRI and EKG's...he was well aware that Tony did not like needles either, so came another mishap where Natasha was forced to hold Tony down after the 2nd vial of blood drawn had driven him to a "tantrum".

And then after 4 days of Tony sleeping, complaining, almost completely avoiding Steve and turning his wrath on a bewildered Natasha, Dr. Reynolds finally, finally, cleared Tony to go home. Steve just hoped that Tony would listen to the doctor and actually rest.

For Steve, taking Tony home was both an event of relief and stress. He was relieved to finally have his husband home (because he hated that damn hospital), but stressed because, well... Tony was Tony. And he knew he wouldn't want to adhere to the doctor's orders of rest for the next several days.

"Tony," he said as they headed into the house, with the billionaire limping in and Steve carrying his bag of things from the hospital. "You know you've got to-"

"Take it easy, I know," Tony rolled his eyes and headed into the main room. "Sweet Jesus, I have missed my house. JARVIS, have you missed me?"

"Of course, sir."

"Hear that? Missed me," he shot a grin to Steve, though it turned to a grimace as he slowed his pace. "Okay, I think I-"

"My friends!" The booming voice startled both men.

"It is good to see you again!" Thor boomed, a grin on his face. He then looked to Tony. "I hear you have lost your memory. It deeply saddens me to hear this, but I assure you that we were- are- great friends."

"We are, huh? Um, lemme guess, you're...Thor?" Tony guessed, and then let out a gasp as he was suddenly wrapped in Thor's freakishly large and strong arms. "O-okay...ow..."

"Uh, Thor, big guy, Tony's ribs aren't exactly in tip top shape," Steve told the Asgardian quickly, hoping he hadn't accidentally broken his ribs even more.

"My apologies," Thor released Tony and for a moment the man swayed and Thor reached out a hand to catch him, but Tony waved it away and retreated to the couch.

"Any other surprises for me?" Tony asked, holding an arm to his torso.

Steve followed Tony to the couch, watching to make sure he didn't need help with anything. "Well, Bruce is probably here. I suggest you don't make him angry." He paused there as he put the bag he was carrying on the floor, "If you do, he'll turn into- as you put it- a giant green rage monster. Literally."

Toby blinked. "Right."

"Yeah. It's not pretty."

"I can imagine."

With that,Tony looked back at Thor, who seemed to be looking continuously at the kitchen. "I hear you're from a different planet, Thor."

Thor nodded. "You've been there once before, soon after our encounter with my brother, Loki. My father Odin congratulated us for displaying bravery and excellent warrior skills towards evil. If I remember correctly, you were...intrigued by it."

The genius contemplated this for a minute, trying to rummage through his brain for any sort of thread of a memory. "God, I really wish I remembered. You'll have to tell me all about later. Now, where's this Bruce guy? I want to meet him...again. You say he's a scientist/physicist?" he asked, and then added teasingly, "Finally, someone who can understand me."

"Nat said that Bruce has pretty much holed himself in his room. He doesn't handle stressful situations very well, so he tries to avoid it," Steve shrugged and then looked towards Thor, who was nodding.

"Yes, Banner has kept to himself as of late. Not even I could coax him from his room last night, and he usually accepts my offer of watching those Midgardian action movies," Thor said with a shrug. He then stood and headed for the kitchen, saying something about a sandwich before adding, "I do hope your memory returns, my friend! I quite like your ways of humor."

"Well, at least my humor hadn't changed," Tony said lightly. "I want to meet this Bruce dude soon, too. He sounds tense."

"Your knack for loosening up people hasn't changed, either," Steve commented, glad that things were going easily so far. While waiting for when the doctor agreed to discharge Tony from the hospital, he'd been worried about how Tony would deal with coming home. He'd had no idea if Tony would lash out, or retreat to be alone to recover instead of accept his teammates help, as the superhero had grown fairly accustomed to. Then again, Tony hasn't been alone with his thoughts yet.

Bruce just happened to walk into the room then, seeming to be on his way to the kitchen. He paused when he saw the others in the living room and he seemed a bit surprised for just a moment. "Uh, hey."

"You're Bruce?" Tony's eyebrows rose and he started to stand, but a sharp pain in his ribs had him halting the movement. Yeah, standing didn't seem too fun right now, he figured.

"I- um, yes, Tony, I," Bruce waved a little at his friend. "I'm Bruce."

"What's that you said about him turning into the jolly green monster?" Tony raised an eyebrow at Steve.

"Ah, you heard about the other guy, huh?" for the first time in what he thought to be days, Bruce smiled. Knowing Tony was recovering at a steady pace was reassuring to his edgy nerves that was making the man so distressed as of late.

Steve shrugged. "Well when he gets mad he sort of just," he paused and waved his hands, "gets really mad and-"

"Hulks out?" Bruce finished.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, it's not pretty," Bruce shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "I still feel bad about the time I smashed your Audi..."

Tony's head snapped up. "The Audi?! What did you do to my car?"

"Well..." he sort of laughed and gave a shrug. "Whoops?"

Tony laughed and lay back on the couch, and it was then he realized how tired he was and how his body ached. Not that he'd admit that to anyone in the room.

Steve must've caught on, though, because he asked Bruce to help Thor make dinner for tonight in the main kitchen down a few floors of the tower. Tony was secretly grateful, but that didn't stop him from complaining about Steve being a party pooper.

"Rest well, friend," Thor said to him, his eyes sincere, "and we will prepare a feast for our team to have a long awaited reunion!"

"Thor, you've only been gone at Asgard for 3 weeks." Bruce told him, but he was smiling.

"That's a long time in Asgard..."

The two were still at it with time differences as Steve ushered them out of the room. Tony sighed in relief as the door shut and he was welcomed by blissful quiet. He should get home soon, to the mansion. What projects had he left behind? Oh God, his projects. He'd have to start everything that he might be almost finished with from scratch because he couldn't even know what he was working on! He felt ansty just thinking about it. Plus, the mansion was still a mess from the fight with Rhodey. He grimaced.

"Do you need something?" his "husband" asked. It still felt weird to think of him like that. Wrong. Okay, not wrong, but still weird.

Steve waited for a moment as he waited for an answer from Tony, and when the man didn't answer, he sat down on the arm of the couch. "Just let me know if you do, okay? I can-"

"CLINT!"

The sound of Natasha's voice and heels clicking on the floor echoed through the tower.

"How many times have I told you: DO NOT SHOOT ARROWS IN THE HOUSE!"

A sound of a crash followed, a few curse words and then, "Aw, Tasha!"

Steve laughed. "That's a pretty regular thing around here."

Tony grinned. "I could get used to it. God knows I have plenty of pranks to lay around here."


	6. Remember that?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dinner with the Avengers is going to be a completely normal, not-awkward thing, right? Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, look, I fixed it! Here's the next chapter. Thanks for the feedback.

The captain rolled his eyes, "Contrary to popular belief, not everyone is too keen on your pranks. Except Clint."

"Well, it seems like Clint is more fun than you!" Tony teased.

"Har har," Steve mocked back, then he got serious. "Tony, you look like you're about to pass out."

Tony grimaced; he'd hoped that he could hold it off for a while. There were too many unanswered questions, details, that he needed to know. But by the expression on Steve's face, he wasn't going to change his mind. He sighed heavily. "Fine, Cap, I'll rest like a good patient."

"Okay," Steve seemed at little relieved when Tony agreed to just relaxing. "Do you want to stay on the couch or move to the bed?" He wasn't sure which would be more comfortable for the other man.

Tony shifted slightly, contemplating. The bed would probably be a little more comfortable, and he would have more room if he were to roll around or something.

"I'll help you move to the bedroom if you need me to," Steve offered

"I-" He was about to tell Steve that he could make it to the bedroom on his own, then thought better of it. "Sure."

Steve grabbed him by the arms and pulled him to his feet, taking one arm and wrapping it around his shoulders. "We could just use a wheelchair if you don't want me carting you."

"Yeah, I'll pass on that thanks," Tony gasped a little at the sharp lightning from his ribs and head. He didn't realize just how much weight he was letting Steve hold. The man was practically carrying him.

Steve could see the pain plain as day on Tony's face, so he tried his best to be careful with the man. He didn't want to hurt him even more. "Here we go," he said as they entered the bedroom and he helped Tony to the bed.

The billionaire let out a groan as he sat down, the sharp tinges still radiating in the rib area. "Thanks," he mumbled and glanced around. The bedroom was the same as he remembered it- except now, a wedding photo sat on the nightstand, on his own side of the bed. Tony stared at the wedding picture. He looked happy. He looked happier than he'd seen himself in years. As his conscious began to drift, he felt his stomach twist, and not from nausea this time. He wished he could be that Tony again. So did Steve, he could bet, too. He felt Steve take off his shoes and Tony didn't say anything. He just crawled into the covers and buried his face into the pillow and sighed in contentment. _Normal._

He was almost asleep when he felt a kiss being laid on his head, and Tony was still too tired to care.

Steve watched as Tony finally drifted off to sleep and he smiled at how content his husband looked. He picked up Tony's hand and kissed, and whispered, "I love you," before backing up, deciding to just go wait somewhere else while Tony slept. He idly wondered where he himself would be sleeping now- would Tony think it awkward to share a bed now? He figured he'd be staying on the couch for a bit, until, hopefully, the other man regained his memory. He shuffled over to the long couch and lay down. Not that the couch wasn't comfy, comparing it to what it could be. He knew from experience that Tony could literally pass out anywhere if he was tired enough, so of course they'd made measures so that at least Tony wouldn't wake up with a sore back if he happened to miss the bed.

He dozed through a fitful sleep, his mind riddled with possibilities of the future, and a lot of them weren't good. Soon thoughts became dreams and the next thing he knew, someone was shaking his shoulder.

"Steve?"

"Mmph."

"Its time for dinner. Bruce and Thor worked damn hard on it," Natasha's voice rang with humor. "Should I wake Tony up?"

Steve rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Um," he thought for a moment, remembering how exhausted Tony had looked earlier. "just let him sleep. He was really tired," he said and then stood up.

"Alright. We'll save a plate for him," Nat nodded as she headed for the kitchen.

"What did they make, anyway?"

Natasha smirked. It had been more of Bruce cooking with Thor exclaiming that he wanted to help, but the scientist refused to let him minus checking the oven. Bruce was a perfectionist in his cooking, even if he wasn't much of an expert on it himself. "Like Thanksgiving dinner all over again,"

Steve groaned. "My stomach is still recovering."

"Just think of Christmas, now, and then you'll really be in over your head," Natasha joked. "So, steak, corn, veggies, fruit salad, dinner rolls..."

"That's like 10 pounds gained right there." the captain laughed.

"Steve! Natasha! So glad you could join the meal that _we_ made," Thor announced as they walked into the dining room, giving a sideways glare to Bruce, who shrugged at them and continued to set the table. Clint was sneaking around the kitchen where the food was, probably snacking on what he could.

It was almost like a traditional Avengers dinner again. Except Tony wasn't there.

Steve smiled as he walked in, looking at the tons of food that had been prepared. "You guys always go overboard," he said and then laughed, showing he didn't really mind it that much. He was moving to sit down when he heard someone else enter the room and he turned, eyebrow raising. "Tony! What're you-"

The genius stumbled into the room, unsteady on his feet and grasping at his midsection as he headed for the table. "Smelled food," he mumbled sleepily, allowing Steve to support him (hell, practically carry him) to a chair. "Wanted to eat." He groaned in pain and closed his eyes, but he opened them after a moment and surveyed what was being put on the table. "Well damn. Can I have some coffee with this?"

Thor grinned at the opportunity. "Jane Foster taught me how to make coffee. Where's the pot that the coffee broils in and the powder?"

"Top cupboard, to the right," Steve told him, ignoring Tony's irritated glance at him for answering for him. No doubt Tony was feeling vulnerable at this point, so he made a mental note to let Tony do his own thing.

"You're not gonna blow it up or anything, are you?" Tony asked dryly. "I like this kitchen."

"Your faith in me is still the same, friend," Thor said cheerily, hooking up the pot and pouring the coffee powder in. Tony shook his head, but he was smiling a little. Steve was glad that at least he was loosening up a little with the team.

Clint entered the room then, his mouth full of something. Natasha smacked the back of his head with a glare. "You're supposed to wait until all of the food is on the table for you to eat it," she muttered, to which the archer merely shrugged.

He then turned to Tony. "How's the ribs feelin'?" He asked as he sat down.

"Sore," Tony said flatly.

"I bet," Clint said sympathetically before immediately turning his attention to the food in the kitchen again. "If we keep waiting like this, I'm going to eat it all before Natasha can carry out her threats of putting my arrows in places they don't belong."

"Am I right to believe that she will try?" Tony asked.

"Damn right, man."

"Hm," Tony nodded slightly at that before reaching out to snatch a small bite from a nearby platter. Steve playfully swatted at his hand (only because it was the good one that wasn't in a cast), but grinned nonetheless.

"Nat will kill you too, you know," he chuckled as Bruce finally entered with the last of the food.

"Nah, she's a softie to me, right Natasha?"

"Have you learned nothing about me, Mr. Stark?" Natasha mocked. "You're no exception to my wrath."

Before Tony and Natasha could get into it, Bruce placed the plate of steaks in the middle of the table. For a minute, all of them stared hungrily at the food, before the man rolled his eyes, "Have at it, you grabby fiends."

Thor was the first to grab for the steaks. He got the largest one and wasted no time tearing into it, chewing hungrily. Clint was next, stabbing his quickly, followed by Nat, who just rolled her eyes.

Steve grabbed one for himself and then looked to Tony, who was staring at the plate with a frown. It appeared that he wouldn't be able to reach it without leaning forward, which would undoubtedly hurt his ribs. "Want some help?"

Tony felt irritation bubble up again. "No," he said crossly. He held his breath and bit back a hiss of pain as he reached for a steak and placed it on his plate. Then he realized he was faced with another dilemma. He couldn't cut his damn steak. God, he felt like an invalid.

"Um, To-" Clint began, but a look from Natasha shut him up.

Realizing he had no choice, Tony finally nodded, and Steve cut his steak in pieces and buttered his bread and got up and went to the living room and brought back a pillow, propping it behind Tony's back so he wouldn't have to strain so much. As everyone ate and awkwardly pretended not to notice, Tony muttered a thank you and wolfed down a couple of bites with his good arm.

Steve looked at everyone and gave a half shrug. Seemingly assured, Clint broke out into a conversation, something about a mission he'd been working with Tony a few months ago and a really good pie that they'd stopped to get on the way back. Naturally, that went into a toss of which pie flavor was the best. As it escalated, Steve couldn't help but notice how Tony was declining from the conversation.

"We'll have to get that pie again, because I'm telling you, it was amazing," Clint was saying, his mouth half full as he spoke.

Natasha rolled her eyes at him. "We get the point," she said dryly and took a bite of her steak, barely dodging Thor as he suddenly lunged forward to get another piece of meat.

Steve laughed at this, grinning at the look on Natasha's face before he glanced to Tony. Usually the two of them laughed at these kind of things together, but instead of seeing the usual smile on the others face, he was met with a blank expression. "Tony?"

**********

Tony tried to find himself table again, surrounded by his "team", but he wasn't there anymore. He was in the living room. He was watching himself in the living room, lying on a couch with Steve and Natasha and Clint bantering and Bruce reading. It was real, but not.

_"I love you, Steve, you know that right? You don't think I've gotten over you or anything? Because I'm known to do that." he was saying._

_"I know. Trust me, Tony. I do."_

Thick haze was clouding his mind now. He didn't know how to describe being inside his own memory and watching it. Then the picture began to swirl and he was back in his chair, with Steve in his face, worried. "Ow."

"Tony? You with me?"

"I gotta...I'm not hungry," Tony said, carefully getting up and skulking out of the room.

Steve started to stand and head after Tony, but a hand on his arm stopped him. "Steve," Natasha said calmly. "Maybe you should just let him go."

The solider frowned, still watching over his shoulder, a bit reluctant. "Okay..." he finally sighed, though he felt strange. Was Tony okay? He didn't like wondering if he was or was not! "I'll just leave him alone for a while, I guess..."

Tony ambled to the living room upstairs then, feeling like he was in a daze. He had no idea what he planned to do. Hell, he barely knew who he was anymore. He was still Iron Man, but what had changed about him, too? What had he done? Where did he go?

And when did he decide to follow orders from Fury?

******

"I got this," Clint abruptly stood from the table, his mouth still half full of food as he walked off for the living room. Natasha acted as if she was about to follow, but decided against it and went back to her food.

"Hey," he waved when he saw Tony and moved to sit down. "You good?"

"No."

"Well, at least you've finally admitted it." Clint said, unfazed.

Tony bore his gaze into him. "I wasn't fooling you?"

"Not for a second." he said, "except that you've never been good at convincing us that you're okay."

"Good to know," Tony mumbled.

"Wanna talk about it?" Clint raised an eyebrow, not sure if the other man would take the offer. He figured it was worth a shot, though.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know," he muttered, shaking his head just slightly.

"Well, that's a stupid answer."

"I just...I really don't know much of anything anymore."

"Well, it's not like you've done something bad that you might not want to remember. In fact, you've done a lot of good. So why are you so freaked about it?"

"I'm not freaked," Tony said a little too harshly, "I'm..."

"Reluctant?"

"No."

"So what the hell is it, then?"

"I don't know!" Tony snapped, looking away from Clint.

"That's still a dumb answer." The archer stared at him, arms folded over his chest. "You're Tony Stark. You have an answer for everything, and you always have your shit figured out. So figure it out."

Always have an answer for everything? He felt like laughing. He may have an answer, doesn't mean its right. He pursed his lips together and turned away from his "friend", and he knew Clint would catch on.

"I'll tell everyone that you need some time to cool off," he said, emotionless, and then Tony was alone with his thoughts and a skyline of the city.

He liked the view of the world below him. He always had; he could see everything, find the farthest stars, and caught storms. He hated storms. The rumbling thunder and flashing lightning reminded him all too well of bombs. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night during the storm and turning up his music as loud it would go, tinkering with something until the storm passed over and he went back to bed.

Tony never had anyone to console him during a storm. He didn't mind that, so he was going to treat this as a storm: alone and by the clock.

*******

When Clint headed back into the room, Steve immediately snapped to attention. "Is he-"

"He needs some space," Clint said simply and took his place at the table beside Natasha.

Steve's shoulders slumped just slightly, though he gave a nod. Space. Okay, he could do that, he told himself. If Tony needed some time to cool down, he would allow him that time, though he already knew just how difficult that would be for himself.

He just wanted to help, and he just wanted Tony. His husband.

Steve made himself sit through the rest of dinner, smiling as the banter bounced back and forth and answering when asked a question. But at this point, he was tired, tired of everything, and he just wanted Tony. But he couldn't have him, even if he was in the building.

He helped with the dishes, wiped off the table, and excused himself. He was pretty sure they were occupied with Clint, who was dead set on playing a poker game. Steve unlocked the door to their "apartment" and walked inside. The lights were down.

"Jarvis?"

"From my readings, Mr. Stark is fully asleep in the master bedroom, sir," the AI automatically replied. "and the lab has not been compromised."

Steve smiled a little. "Thanks."

"Of course, sir."

He almost walked into the room and plopped down to their bed. Almost. Instead, he hovered in the doorway, just peeking in at Tony's sleeping form for a moment. He truly did want to just plop down and join him, but he refrained and decided that he would just sleep on the couch for now. That was going to be annoying, but he imagined that sharing a bed would make Tony uncomfortable, and that was the last thing he wanted.

He retreated back to the couch, drew the blanket over himself, and closed his eyes.

The next thing Steve knew, there was a clang and various curses. "Jarvis, why won't you let me in my lab?"

He sat up and went to investigate. "Tony, what're you-"

"Why can't I get in my damn lab?" Tony snapped from where he had himself propped against the wall, wincing as he wrapped an arm around his tender midsection. "I want in there."

"You should be rest-"

"Why the hell can't I get in?!"

Steve sighed. He knew it was only a matter of time before Tony thought he was strong enough to work. "You know why."

He scowled. "I'm behind. I'll be behind for a long time. I might as well start now."

"Jarvis has all your notes stored. You can easily figure out what's going on."

Tony continued to glare at him as he limped his way back to the couch. "How'd you block my overrides?"

"I've been taught a few tricks," he said proudly, crossing his arms. At Tony's raised eyebrow, he smirked, "Okay, fine. It was Natasha."

"Damn Natasha," Tony muttered and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"It's for the best, though," Steve pointed out with a shrug. He then moved to sit beside Tony. "You really should just rest."

"I hate resting."

"Tony."

"Steve."

Steve glared at Tony for a second before he chuckled a little to himself. "Every time."

"What?"

"You do this every time you're injured."

"Do what?" Tony asked innocently, though his expression gave it away that he knew exactly what Steve was talking about.

"You bitch, really."

"I don't bitch. I pester. I let you know that I'm fine, dammit. Because I am. I've worked in worse conditions." Tony said, waving an arm about. "You have to know that about me."

"I do, but I haven't really allowed it."

"You should allow it."

"No."

"Steve-"

"No."

"Aw, come on-"

"Look," the super soldier sighed. "I know you want to work, but just rest for a few days. Better to take it easy rather than injure yourself even further, which I know you are more than capable of doing."

Thinking, Tony suddenly hit Steve with his best puppy dog face, but it didn't look it did much. "What am I supposed to do while I 'rest'?"

"Gee, I don't know." Steve said sarcastically.

"I can't just sit there."

"Play checkers or something."

"I don't like checkers."

"Of course you don't," Steve rolled his eyes. "Tony you can do whatever you want as long as its relaxing, and you can be sitting down."

"Excellent, so let me in my lab so I can tinker with my stuff." Tony reasoned.

"You know what I mean."

Tony let out a long sigh and rubbed his face. "Well," he muttered and glared at Steve for a moment. "This is boring."

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

This resulted in a smile from Steve. "Maybe not. But I'm not going to let you into your lab again, so you might as well stop asking."

Tony's irritation started to come to a head. "You're not the boss of me, Steve."

"No, I'm not. But I'm trying to help you, because you don't want to help yourself the right way." the super soldier said as calmly as he could.

He didn't answer.

For what seemed like hours, Tony picked at his fingernails and Steve scratched at a non-existent itch on his nose. Finally, Tony muttered under his breath, "I'll watch TV."

"What show? The one where they talk about classic cars?"

The genius blinked. "How'd you know?"

Steve smiled. "I know a lot about you," he said simply before he stood up to retrieve the television remote for Tony. "We are married, remember?"

A strange look crossed Tony's face for the briefest of moments. "Uh, right," he muttered and glanced to his left hand, where his wedding ring was. Huh. That was still weird to him, that he was settled down with this guy. "Married."

As Steve watched Tony study his wedding ring again (and feeling incredibly awkward) he quickly put the TV on to the recordings, where Tony had made sure, even over the past 2 years, that he watched all of them over and over again. He tossed the remote to Tony. "Knock yourself out."

Tony nodded a thanks and then once the show began, and the engines were shown, Steve could tell that the wheels were turning in Tony's brain. _How could I make it like that, but better? Could I make a duplicate and then make adjustments? No, that'd be difficult..._

Steve often could hear Tony talking to himself if he wasn't paying attention. His thought process, he learned, was hard to understand in his own mind, but he couldn't exactly question him.

"I'm gonna go see what's going on out there. I don't suppose you're hungry?"

Tony shook his head, and Steve wondered why he bothered to ask. Tony was almost never ate breakfast anyway. He found it very "time consuming", but lately Steve had been forcing him to at least eat a bagel when he woke up so that he wouldn't complain of being so hungry at the wrong times. At times Steve felt like less a husband and more of a babysitter, yet he just could not complain. Love drives people to strange things. Steve looked at Tony for a moment longer and then walked away, thinking maybe he would bring the genius back some coffee. He'd probably at least want that. Sighing, he headed into the main part of the tower, where he could hear Thor booming about pop tarts. Goodness.

"Hey, guys," he said and walked into the kitchen.

Natasha, who was buttering a piece of toast, turned her attention to him. "Hello," she said quietly, eyes curious as she silently asked if Tony had any changes in his memory.

And Steve shook his head. "Watching TV. He has the same habits."

"I know it might seem like Tony's changed a lot since you met him, but you'd be surprised," Natasha said.

"Of course, you're speaking as his former personal assistant," Clint teased, earning himself a death glare. He took two pieces of buttered toast and stuffed them into his mouth. "Surprised Fury hasn't called at all."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Natasha chastised.

"I think he's just giving us some space while Tony recovers," Steve guessed, but it was unlikely. Fury wouldn't let a mission go pass unless it was a dire emergency.

"Tony won't be able to go if Fury calls us out," Clint said, still speaking with his mouth full.

Natasha gave him a stern look before nodding. "Right. But that's expected."

Steve frowned. He didn't know how he would feel about leaving Tony here if they had to go away for something.

Natasha seemed to know what he was thinking. "Don't worry. I bet there'll be nothing; Clint's just thinking aloud because he can't keep his mouth shut."

"Yeah, sure. What she said," Clint rolled his eyes.

"Right..." Steve sighed softly and sat down, suddenly not feeling like making himself anything for breakfast.

Clint shoved a plate of toast towards the solider. "Here. Eat this as an apology for me making you worry or whatever."

Steve accepted the toast, but he barely nibbled it.

"Drama aside, I'm bored." Clint grumbled, flicking crumbs off the table.

"You sound like Tony." Steve scoffed.

"He found out he was locked out of his lab, didn't he?" Clint grinned.

"He did."

"Ha!" Clint let out a laugh. "Bet he was pissed, huh?"

"Of course he was," Natasha stated simply, biting into her toast.

Steve smiled slightly. "Yep. He sure was."

"I can entertain him. He needs to know who I am more anyway, right?" Clint offered.

"Don't let him do it," Natasha warned, "they'll blow something up."

"Don't blow anything up," Steve said tiredly as he nibbled at the toast. "Please."

Clint let out a bored sigh. "Fine, fine," he muttered. "I won't."

"This isn't going to be an easy day is it?" Steve grinned softly at Natasha, and she replied with a silent groan.

*******

The day was actually pretty mellow, considering. Tony mostly slept, ate, and continued to poke at the security mainframes so he could sneak into his lab, while the rest of the Avengers lounged. Steve often found Tony staring off into space, and had to repeat his name a few times before Tony would realize he was being spoken to. He decided to ignore it until it became a problem, assuming that Tony just had a lot on his mind, and he had promised to give him space, after all.

He had to sleep on the couch again that night.

It was funny, really, how it was Steve who ended up on the couch because before the accident, it was Tony being threatened by Steve that he would sleep on the couch if he didn't listen to whatever Steve was requesting.

The next day, Steve was sitting on the couch, sketchbook in lap, though he was just staring off into space and not drawing anything. Usually he was able to sketch in order to take his mind off of something, but his thoughts just felt too jumbled even for that. Everything was so crazy these days. He continued staring off until Natasha suddenly walked in.

"Fury's on the line."


	7. Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fury is a dick and has really bad timing, if Steve dares say so himself. And Tony figures a dash of Pepper will help.

Damn. Fury calling them couldn't be good. It's only been a day and a half since Tony had come home from the hospital, and he was still in the same shape as he was. His ribs were healing but still very tender, and Steve had let Tony into his lab today to his relief, because quite frankly Steve was tiring of his attitude. He followed Natasha to the conference room down a floor, where Clint, Bruce, and Thor were waiting. A telephone set lay in the middle of the table, the caller I.D. blinking: FURY

Steve stared at the phone for a moment, almost dreading what the director on the line was going to tell them. He wasn't ready to go out on a mission yet, not with Tony still hurt. He had to make sure the genius didn't do anything stupid.

"Well since no one else has bothered to answer it yet," Clint rolled his eyes and leaned forward, pressing the speaker button on the phone. "Avengers here," he drawled.

Natasha gave him a look before glancing to the phone. "All but Stark are present, sir."

Fury ignored the two comments and went on, "We've got a situation."

Natasha winced and kept her gaze on Steve as she replied, "Go ahead."

"An agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. leaked information to a powerful adversary of ours. HYDRA ring any bells?" Fury's voice was curt and devoid of any of his usual snark. He was pissed.

Clint groaned. "What now?"

"Codes were released ocean wide to Japan for nuclear missiles made specifically for major parts of America," the director began, "and naturally, the ship block is full of HYDRA goons."

"Do you need all of us? Minus Tony, that is?" Steve asked hesitantly.

"Does the nuclear missile part not get through your head, Mr. Stark-Rogers?" he snapped.

Steve clenched his jaw, not saying anything else for a moment.

"Alright. You want us there to take care of the HYDRA goons," Bruce spoke up, rubbing his forehead.

"No, I want you to river dance," Fury mocked, a vein on his head looking like it about to burst. "Yes, and then you get those codes, you infiltrate the base, and you disable the nuclear systems. Got it?"

"We're on it, sir," Natasha stated.

"Get in the Quinjet and get the hell out there. Take care of it."

"If I may, sir, I'd like to request to stay behind. Iron Man is still recovering, and-" Steve was cut off.

"To my knowledge, Tony is quite capable of managing through a few bits of amnesia and chest pain, Rogers." Fury interjected.

Steve frowned in irritation. "Right. Yes, sir."

Natasha watched Steve's expression. "Sir, it would be in Iron Man's best interests if the Captain-"

"Captain America is to be on this mission. End of story," Fury interjected firmly before the line disconnected. A moment later coordinates began popping up on the computer screen nearby, and Bruce went to check for the information that the director was apparently sending to them.

Steve slumped in the chair. "Shit."

"Now, don't get your tighty whities in a twist, Captain." Clint told him assuredly. "Jarvis will watch out for Tony."

"Oh, a computer is going to stop Tony from doing something that can hurt himself? I feel really great about that." Steve said sarcastically. "Bruce, how much time do we have?"

"We've got about half an hour until we need to leave," Bruce informed the group, as he was typing away at the computer.

"Better tell Tony," Clint shrugged at Steve. "Set down the ground rules for him and all that. No blowing shit up while we're gone."

Rolling his eyes, the super solider turned to head out of the room in order to find Tony, who was most likely down in the lab at this point.

"Super," Steve muttered darkly, standing up and heading to the exit. He went back upstairs to where the mini-lab was. Tony favored his work area in Malibu the most, but since he hasn't been cleared for travel, he's stuck with what he's got. As he neared the door, he could clear as a bell hear Tony jabbering to Jarvis with notes.

"Jarvis, what was I doing here?" Steve felt his heart clench at Tony's tone. It was frustrated, stubborn, and...desperate.

"Sir, if I may induce, your vitals are higher than what is considered safe for you." the AI replied, "I suggest that you try to relax."

He took that moment to walk in. "You should heed his advice."

Tony's head snapped towards the door way, but only for a moment. His attention was back to the screen in front of him in an instant. "I'm fine, thanks," he muttered.

"I would hardly say you're fine," Steve stated as he ventured further into the lab, his eyes flickering over the various papers and plans scattered about. It appeared that Tony had been vigorously trying to figure out his work, without much progress so far.

The genius raked a hand though his dark hair. "This is impossible," he made a pinching motion to minimize the screen in front of him.

"No one said it would be easy. Just give it time."

" _Time_ ," Tony repeated harshly. "Time is a bitch. Time is screwing with my head."

Steve scoffed lightly. "Yeah, trust me. I know how you feel."

Tony blinked at Steve for a moment, seemed to realize who he was talking to, and then shrugged. "Sorry."

"Its okay," Steve assured him, and then hesitated. "Um...Fury called. There's a mission in Japan; a nuclear threat notice."

"Nuclear threat," Tony repeated. "Sounds messy."

Steve sighed. "Probably," he murmured. "Myself and the others have to leave in thirty minutes."

"Right," Tony's eyes flicked to where the Iron Man suit was stored for just a moment, but then he looked back to his computer screen. "Have fun storming the castle or whatever," he muttered, nearly pouting.

"You're not going to argue?" Steve asked incredulously.

"I am I that bad? At this point I feel like I've just gotten worse." Tony threw his hands up in the air. "I can't satisfy anyone."

The captain rolled his eyes. "Maybe that head injury did something good after all."

At that, Tony went quiet and Steve could see him retreat. He mentally kicked himself for pulling that card. Maybe Tony's big mouth was wearing off on him? "I'm sorry."

"Meh."

"Meh? What does meh mean?"

"Meh," Tony explained nonchalantly, "means simply...'meh'."

"Oh, right. Got it," Steve mocked.

"Well," Tony stated after a moment, eyes scanning over a report on his screen. "You'd better go then. Don't want to be late, right, Spangles?"

Steve blinked. Spangles? That was the stupid nickname that Tony used for him all the time, before the accident- at least, Steve always said it was stupid, when in reality, he sort of liked it when the genius used the name. Had he just remembered that? "Tony..."

"See you later, yep."  
******

Fuck,Tony thought as the nickname let slip through his lips. He managed to practically kick Steve out with a quirk to, but it was clear he was suspicious. Of course he was. According to him, Tony hadn't remembered anything yet.

But now, Tony's been remembering all kinds of things. Voices, flashes, even explosions. It felt like a too real movie that kept freezing and fritzing in his head. It was unintelligible and he could hardly make out much sense. Instead, he stored everything in one area of his brain, piecing together what he could. A lot were with Steve, but the rest of the Avengers were there too.

In his flashbacks, the Avengers seemed to know him inside and out. But he doubted that he would ever really let friends into his "inner" self. He had no idea what he'd told Steve, either. These guys may not know him at all. They cared about selfless Iron Man saving the world along their side, and the Tony who wore that mask was gone for an extended vacation that could turn into permanency.

******

Steve backed out of the lab, a frown still etched on his features. Tony had remembered, hadn't he? He was remembering things, and was probably acting too damn stubborn to tell anyone about it, he figured. The thought sort of pissed him off, really. Did Tony not realize how big of a deal this was? Did he not realize he had a husband who was praying with everything he had that Tony would remember something?

Apparently the genius didn't care.

Clenching his hands into fists, Steve headed towards their little wing of the house to grab his go bag for this mission they were leaving for, now fuming with annoyance.

Natasha could tell right away that telling Tony that they were leaving didn't go well. "Hey, are you ready?"

Steve slung his bag over his shoulder and nodded. "Yes, I'm ready."

His voice was flat. "Tony didn't take it well?"

"He was fine."

"So what's the matter? You look pissed." Natasha asked.

Steve seemed to check himself, and his face went calm. Sad, but calm. "I think he's remembering things."

"And you're...mad about that?" Natasha was confused.

"He won't tell me that he's remembering things." he explained, "He called me Spangles."

"The nickname you love/hate?" she raised an eyebrow, "he may be just going off his list of Captain America jokes that he's sure to have been working on since he figured out who you were."

"No, its different."

"Is it?"

"Yes, Nat," Steve snapped as he pushed by her to leave the room. "I think myself of all people would know."

"I wasn't trying to-"

"Just don't," Steve glanced over his shoulder to give her a look and he shook his head. "Don't talk about it anymore. I don't want to."

She sighed. "Fine then." A pause. "Ready to go?"

Steve nodded curtly and went to the landing spot at the top of Stark Tower. Already Thor, Bruce in his stretchy pants, and Hawkeye were set. The Quinjet was there, and steve was grateful for that.

"What did Tony say?" Clint asked. Not even Clint's grin could lift his spirits, so he stalked past the group without a word.

The archer blinked when Steve moved away. Ah. So, that talk apparently had not gone well. "Awkwaaaard..." he muttered before he turned. "So I say we get out of here. Fury'll kick our asses if we're late."

"Then shut your rambling and go," Natasha muttered as she stepped onto the waiting Quinjet, followed by Bruce and Thor.  
******

Tony could hear the Quinjet taking off, and he took that chance to toss the sling off around him. "Jarvis, have you completed the scan?"

"It will be finished in approximately 3 minutes." The British-accented computerized voice answered.

Tony nodded absently. He'd programmed medical diagnoses into Jarvis's harddrive as much as he could, and the scan may help him determine whether his memory would return completely. The part in his brain responsible for his memories had been looked at during his MRI back at the hospital, and they said there was nothing for them to see, or fix, for that matter. But he didn't trust doctors.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"The scan is complete. Results will be displayed momentarily."

His holo-screen was suddenly filled with charts, graphs, and calculations. He sorted out the important ones, copied to another screen, and he looked at what he got. He had nothing.

"There was nothing I could detect that would affect your memory status, sir. Neurological scientists call this a 'retrograde amnesia', in which-"

Tony stopped listening. This meant that he'd have to do this alone AND blind. There was no engineering invention, no scientific miracle...just Tony and his overloaded mind.

******

"You okay, Steve? You seem-"

"I'm fine."

"Are you-"

"Fine."

Bruce sighed and shut up, looking away from Steve. So much for attempting to talk. He felt slightly awkward, not knowing what to do.

Clint slid his gaze to Natasha. "Got this baby under control?" he asked from his pilot seat beside her.

"Got it."

"Alright." Clint leaned back in his chair before he pulled out his cell phone, sending a text to Tony.

_Don't blow up anything while we're gone. And I swear to god, stop pissing off the Cap! It makes him annoying to work with.-CB_

_What did I do? I didn't argue with him. -T_ Tony's text reply confused Clint. Then what was pissing off the Captain?

He glanced behind at Steve, who was staring out the small window.

"Tony says hey," Clint told him. It was a lie, but Clint needed to see his reaction. Steve looked to him, saw that he was texting, and just grunted before once again averting his gaze. Oh, yeah. It definitely had something to do with Tony.

_My observation skill says different. . -CB_

_Well. I didn't do anything.-T_

Clint rolled his eyes at this reply, not believing it. Something happened, and he wanted to know what it was. "Tony promises not to blow up the lab," he stated and slid his gaze towards Steve, who merely grunted again. Hmm. Interesting.

_Don't believe you. -CB_

_Coming from the guy who tried to duct tape a waffle onto Fury's eye patch while he was sleeping. -T_

Clint started in surprise. No one knew about that but he and Tony; they'd sworn on it. No way Tony would have told Steve because husband or not the solider would've told someone else, and Clint would never have been able to live it down. But Tony wouldn't have remembered that, unless...

Holy shit.

_Tony, how could you have known that? –CB_

*******  
 _Tony, how could you have known that? -CB_

Tony stared at the text message for a moment, blinking in confusion. Shit, yeah, how did he know that? He frowned, shaking his head slightly. If he was planning to keep a low profile, he really had to get some control on what he said.

Not that Tony ever had control on what he said.

****

_Dunno. Just do. -T_

Clint swore under his breath at that response.

_You're remembering things, aren't you? -CB_

_Of course not, don't you think I would've told you? -T_

At this point, Clint wasn't really sure if Tony would tell him. More accurately, he had no idea if Tony would tell anyone at all. He made a mental note to himself to ask the rest of the team about their suspicions after the mission. For now, he let it go.

_I guess. –CB_

Clint sighed as he sent the text and he shook his head, suddenly realizing something. Perhaps that's why Cap was mad- he suspected Tony was remembering things, even though the genius wasn't saying anything about it. That would be frustrating and a good reason to be in a bad mood.

Well.

If that was the case, then Clint was gonna knock some sense into Tony. Stubborn or not, the man had a husband now, and he needed to share these kinds of things with him.

Steve sat fuming in the chair, letting the whir of the engine calm him as they descended to Tokyo. They still had a long trip to get there, and he knew that something was bugging Clint from the looks he was getting. What was Tony telling him on that cell phone, anyway?

"Problem, Barton?" He kicked himself mentally. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh, and to use Clint's last name. Steve always used last names when he was pissed.

"No, sir," Clint emphasized the title with such sarcasm it made Steve even more angry, even though he had no authority over Hawkeye whatsoever.

Clint rolled his eyes as he watched Steve. Great. Now he was going to be even more pissy.

Natasha slid her gaze to Steve, and then to Clint, for just a moment. "Let's not be angry with each other before the damn mission even starts," she said cooly. "It's not going to help the situation."

"And it's stressing me out," Bruce muttered from his seat.

Steve immediately snapped his attention to Bruce, who was now cradling his head in his hands and his leg shook spasmodically. "Bruce..."

"I'll be okay. I think Hulk can hold out until he needs to start smashing everything," Banner told him, his voice strained.

"Can I trust you on that? Because I like this jet. It's very...adequate." the archer's tone was joking, but his face revealed his concern for his teammate. "Tell you what, if you can hold out, I'll give you $20 dollars as a reward."

"Make it a hundred." the doctor teased.

"What? Who do you think I am? Tony Stark?" Clint scoffed, and Thor harrumphed, probably thinking of how strange Migardians were to bribe on such a matter. Nevertheless, Bruce kept breathing deeply, "yoga breathing" as Tony called it.

"Bruce..." Steve said again, still focused on the man. The doctor shook his head, letting out a long, slow breath.

Sighing, Steve looked away, knowing that the mere act of worrying about Bruce hulking out made the other guy nervous. That was the last thing that they needed right then, to be honest. Clint shifted in his chair, looking to Steve with raised eyebrows, both in question of Bruce and if Steve himself was alright.

Chagrined, Steve tried to calm himself down so that the aura of the jet would be less tense. Clint kept a watchful eye on not just Bruce, but him. He knew that Clint was well aware of Steve's discomfort, and that it had to do with Tony. Of course it was; what else was new? He gave the archer a thumbs up to acknowledge his concern.

Bruce was clearly calming down himself, too. His knuckles were still white as he clenched them against his temple, but his breathing was considerably easier sounding and he seemed to be managing it. To be frank, he actually looked like he was going to fall asleep. Steve wondered when was the last time Bruce slept soundly. Was he frightened of nightmares that would trigger the Hulk? Steve could bet on it. Bruce, Tony, and himself had their fair share of panic attacks from unsettling nightmares.

Knowing Bruce would manage, he leaned back in the seat for the long flight ahead.

********

Whoever said patience was a virtue, must not have the mind of Tony Stark. 2 days, he'd been either bedridden, closely watched, or nagged by Steve and the rest of the team. That kind of tolerance didn't sit well with Tony, but he'd put up with it to get them off his back. And it worked, other than Steve poking at him for answers for his memory change. It wasn't fair for the "older" man, and Tony felt guilty for it. Not that it slowed him down any.

"Jarvis, shut down for me, please," he told his A.I.

"I've been recently updated with direct programming to stay online at all times. Courtesy of Ms. Romanoff." the disembodied voice told him.

"Okay, er..." he thought about it. Natasha was certainly advanced in computer programming, but Jarvis was designed with back doors. Even if the A.I. was directly ordered not to shut down when told, Tony could bet the spy hadn't covered all of the bases. "Can you reboot?"

"That would be shutting down, Mr. Stark." If it was possible, Tony could almost hear a creeping suspicion.

"No, not with my programmed reboot," he smirked. He'd created a sort of reboot that turned off all of Jarvis's systems, including cameras, security measures, and even the computers. But his hard drive of information would still be intact, including the voice. He had his knowledge, just not his eyes or ears that Tony had designed. Everything would turn back on in 20 minutes automatically, and that gave Tony enough time to sneak out of the house. "So, reboot."

"Very well, sir. Security functions will be offline as well as your computers."

As the screens dissipated and the blinking red lights of the cameras blinked off, Tony blew out a breath and dashed (in his mind, anyway) to the bedroom. He threw on dress pants, a button down dress shirt (incredibly thankful for the buttons so he wouldn't have to lift his arms, though the buttons proved to be difficult with one good arm and the other in a cast), and sunglasses. The less press, the better.

He called Happy. The man had visited him in the hospital at one point, when Tony was drugged up after all the tests. He was half-conscious, but he remembered perfectly how devastated the old boxer was about him being completely helpless to stop the crash. "Happy? I need you to take me to where ever Pepper is now." It was clear that the request surprised Happy.

"I'm serious," Tony said after a moment as he blew out a long sigh. "I need to speak with Pep, so, come on. Take me to her." He was assuming that she was just at the office working right now, as that's typically where she stayed (from what Tony could remember anyways), so he knew finding her wouldn't be hard.

"Of course," Happy finally gave in. "The car will be waiting out front, as usual."

"Good." Tony was pleased it had been that simple. He didn't have Steve and the team watching his every move; he'd easily found a way to escape the house; Happy was agreeing to take him to Pepper... Yes, it was good.

Getting out to the car, was not. Movement was still difficult and the thudding pain in his ribs caused him to pause here and there, cursing under his breath and muttering something about how he wasn't healing fast enough. Ugh. He let Happy open the door for him, sliding in to the familiar seats of his Rolls-Royce Phantom, even though it had to be a different car since the other one Tony was in was totaled, that he'd initially bought for Happy's chauffeuring, but as their friendship grew he let Happy use the car for himself as well. He breathed in the leather and car freshener before rummaging through his pockets with his good hand and pulling out a medicine bottle. Fumbling with the top, he managed to pry it open with his teeth and he popped in two pills. Painkillers would do well.

"Tony? Does Steve know you're going?" Happy asked hesitantly.

"No."

The driver paused before sighing and igniting the engine. "She's at the office."

"She's still CEO, right?"

"Yeah."

Tony didn't say anything more and looked out the window. Everything could still be the same. Right now, everything felt the same.

-  
When Tony remained silent and seemed to look a thousand miles away, Happy made a mental note to himself to text Steve that Tony was running "errands". Then again, maybe he shouldn't. After all, he'd been the one who had almost gotten Tony killed in the first place, and he couldn't bare the thought of the freaking Avengers angry with him.

He decided that he'd just go along with his boss and hope that his friend didn't do anything too stupid. It wasn't long until they reached their destination. Happy was still looking a bit skeptical about this whole thing, but he didn't say a word as he got out of the car and walked around to open the door for Tony. The other man looked a little pained as he slid out of the seat to stand, but he didn't say anything about that, either. He knew Tony probably didn't want to have someone smothering him, asking if he was alright. Steve had probably been doing enough of that to drive the man crazy. "Shall I wait here for you?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Tony nodded to the man as he took a deep breath. Those pain pills should be kicking in soon, he thought as he walked into the familiar building that was the office. Here's to hoping they didn't make him too drowsy. Sighing, he headed up to where he knew Pepper probably was, ignoring the glances of a few other interns and employees as he went.

He made it to the glass office doors, and peeking in, he saw Pepper typing away on her computer. She looked almost exactly the same as he remembered. Same ol' Pepper. He relished the feeling. Nothing seemed the same anymore, except for the little things. Feeling a sense of confidence, he opened the door and greeted the woman, "Hey,"

When the ginger looked up, Tony grinned at her expression. It was priceless.

"Tony!" she exclaimed, shocked. "W-what are you doing here? I heard about your accident; Natasha called me a few days ago. I meant to come and visit you, but they told me it wasn't a good idea and I must say I agree-"

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" Tony asked, confused. Steve had told him that although he and Pepper had something for a short time in the definitive, they'd decided to keep it strictly friendship. Soon after that, Tony had apparently grown closer to Steve. Actually, Steve hadn't told him much at all about Pepper.

"Oh, I-" she looked at him sadly. "Your amnesia. Do you still have it?"

"Well, yeah, for now. I'm sure I'll get it back, as everyone keeps telling me." he looked around. "Didn't change the place much, did you?"

He hoped Pepper could hear the intended secondary question.

"I've moved things around a little."

Tony's eyes scanned the room for a moment longer and then he headed for a chair, wincing slightly as he sat down. this was better than standing, though, he decided. Standing hurt. A lot.

Pepper watched him from where she sat, her mouth turned into a small frown. "I'm not sure if you coming here was a good idea. You need to take time to heal, Tony. I'm sure you should be resting-"

"You're starting to sound like Steve, Pep," he muttered in an annoyed tone, his brow furrowing.

She sighed. "Sorry, Tony, but you know that I'm right."

"Yeah, you're always right, huh?"

"Well, yes."

"But I'm-"

"I know you're the genius here." She smiles at that, though it's a cautious grin. Nevertheless, it's the type of thing that has Tony feeling /normal/. Like things are supposed to be like this. He's supposed to sit around and banter with Pepper, because that's just what they do. As silence fell on them, Tony regarded Pepper carefully. She was avoiding his gaze, her thumbs twiddling. That was weird. Pepper always acted calm, collected, and very strict around him. She was no-nonsense. "Bet you're wondering how I snuck out of the tower."

"That I am. I highly doubt Steve let you, or the rest of the team, for that matter."

"Fury called, and I think they said something about a nuclear threat in Tokyo that needed to be dealt with immediately." Tony said, and noticed that she had checked her watch at least 3 times since he walked in. "What, is Oprah on a few minutes?"

"I'm waiting for someone, that's all," she sighed, and looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. It made Tony's heart pang. Okay, so maybe things weren't as normal as he'd thought.

"Who?" he asked, his voice much more harsher than he'd intended. If Pepper caught on to his tone, she didn't look it. "A date, perhaps? If it is, then I want to meet him. I really do. You're in control of my company; I need to be very sure if he'll make sure you live up to your standards and such. I hope you picked a nice guy out of your fanclub. Some of them are very rude. I'd know, I've had them call me and-"

"Tony." Pepper had her eyes closed and was pinching the bridge of her nose. "There's something you should know. And you should hear it from me."

Whatever green monster had started to arise in his blood raised its ugly head even more, this time worse because he was telling himself not to be jealous. He hadn't even been romantically involved with Pepper, although he'd wanted to very badly at that time. "That's okay, you can tell me later when I'm sober."

"You haven't been drinking. I can tell." Pepper was irritated now. "Now can you please shut up and listen for once?"

"How's Rhodey, by the way?"

"Tony, I'm engaged."

At first, he acted as if she didn't say anything. "Seriously," he murmured, picking up a mint from the fancy dish that sat on the desk. "How's Rhodey doing? I'm surprised he didn't visit when I was in the hospital. I would've thought-"

"Tony, I'm serious," Pepper cut in, her tone quiet. "I'm engaged."

That seemed to shut him up and for a moment he stared at her, something in his chest tightening painfully. "Oh." He finally found his voice, though he sounded off. "That's... congratulations." He sounded abnormally calm, and without some sort of snarky or sarcastic comment to follow, Pepper knew he was hurt. It was written all over his face.

"Tony..." She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Look, I-"

"No, no, no," he held up his hands and forced a smile, though it looked more like a grimace. "That's... great, Pep. Really great. Who's the guy? Because, like I was saying, you run my company and I need to check out whoever it is you're with. You know, make sure he's good enough and all that. Yeah?" He looked at her and nodded. She just stared. "Pepper?"

Before Pepper could answer, a light knock on the door made Tony freeze.

"Hey, Pep- Are you in a meeting because I can-" the ever familiar voice struck Tony right in the heart. I'm waiting for someone. I'm engaged. He didn't want to turn around. He hoped that the owner of the voice would just slip away without him noticing. "Sorry."

"No, its okay." Pepper voice was a little raspy, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Pep?"

Tony kept his head down, closed his eyes, and tried to imagine himself back in his lab, almost 2 years ago, working on an update to the suit with Pepper rambling in his ear about the company's interests.

"Oh, God, Tony?!" the stifled gasp made Tony wince and he forced himself to turn his head over his shoulder, now face to face with his best friend James Rhodes.


	8. Chapter 8

It was a rare occurrence in his life, but Tony was speechless for a moment. He sort of just looked over his shoulder until it became too painful to do so, and when he turned back around he was grimacing. "Rhodey," he finally managed, forcing himself to sound far more chipper than he felt. "How's it… uh… how's it going?" He waited for a reply, and he didn't have to turn around to know that the other man was just staring at the back of his head. He could tell.

Rhodey cautiously stepped into the office, his gaze flicking to Pepper for a moment. He raised his eyebrows in question, but she merely looked at him, her eyes still seeming watery. "Tony." He said again, calmer this time, though he sounded… off. Strained.

Tony could hardly take this shit anymore. They were treating him like was glass, fragile and if he was dropped, he'd break and there would be no picking up the pieces. Well, that wasn't true. Tony could damn well take hard news, amnesic or not. "Really, guys, you kind of suck at poker faces."

He heard Pepper take a shuddering breath, and felt guilty at the harsh intone his voice carried.

"We were waiting for Steve to give the go on telling you. We weren't sure if you know, you were ready." she said softly. "Tony, you have to understand-"

"I understand fine." Tony snapped. "Lemme guess. You couldn't handle my way of living. I get that, too stressful; so you go after...Rhodey."

"Hey, buddy; you're the one who broke up with her." An angry edge had formed on Rhodey, and that just fueled Tony. He got to his feet far too fast for his wounded body to handle, but he bit down his pain and got in Rhodey's face. With his head swimming and his body throbbing in protest, Tony doubted he looked any more menacing than he felt. "Back off, Tony."

"Why don't I call Steve before you do anything you regret, Tony?" Whatever emotions Pepper had been battling earlier, they were replaced by a professional calm. Her hand was reaching towards the phone.

"No, dammit!" Tony barely registered he was shouting. "Steve doesn't own me. He's sure as hell not responsible for me. Maybe that's how it was before, but not now."

"Can't we just-"

Tony didn't give the man a chance to finish. He stormed past Rhodey and once again ignored the looks from his employees. He needed to get out. He couldn't go home, not with JARVIS on watch...so he started walking to the only place where he could be alone in his sorrows: the old pub that was empty almost all the time. No reporters, no pestering fans...just him, the alcohol, and the bad music in the background. He slid past the ever-ending crowd of people on the streets, head down and set for one destination. He felt a little groggy. He couldn't remember when he'd last slept, really…over a day ago, maybe?

Tony ordered himself a drink right off the bat when he arrived at the pub. Screw the fact that you're not supposed to mix alcohol with meds- he'd done it before, right? He'd just do it again. He would be fine and he wouldn't have to listen to anyone's nagging because the "team" or whatever were off dealing with some… nuclear shit or whatever. Right. He knocked back his drink before he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Christ. What now? Scowling, he snatched it from his pocket. "What?!"

"Uh…"

Oh. It was Steve. Wasn't he supposed to be off saving the world and all that?

"What do you want, Captain?" he spat the last word out a lot harsher that intended, but he didn't dare apologize for it. Nope.

"I just got a call from Happy that you decided to run an errand?" Steve didn't sound the least bit hurt, but he sounded very apprehensive.

Instead of replying, he downed more of his drink.

"Did you talk to Pepper?"

Tony snorted. "Yeah, that was a mistake. A little warning would have been nice."

"Warning...? Oh, no, Tony what did you find out?"

"You mean other than the fact that I single handedly ruined my fucking life? Nothing much." his own voice sounded odd to him, like it was overly cheerful and depressing at the same time. He remembered it as his drunken voice. But he'd only had 2 drinks; why did he feel drunk now? Maybe it had something to do with the meds...

"Tony, where the hell are you?" Steve's patience was clearly running short.

"Hmm, why's it matter so much?" Tony replied, holding a hand up to get another drink. He looked down at the drink for a moment, head swimming, and he blinked a few times.

"Tony…" Steve just sounded so, so frustrated now.

"What?"

"Are you… are you drunk?" There was a pause and then a muffled curse, before Steve let out a breath. "What the hell?"

"I'd say that its a very Tony-like thing to do," Tony drawled. "How's the whole nuclear threat thing going? Great I assume."

"Tony, go find Happy." Steve said, dead serious. "Actually, don't move. Where are you?"

"Not the boss of me." He felt really dizzy now. And sleepy. Still, though, the whiskey felt really good right now.

"Just please tell me you didn't take any medication within the last 3 hours."

"Humm, I took the little blue pills. They work wonders, you know?" Tony chuckled drowsily before he took another drink. "And I think…I need another one. I think-"

"No," Steve's voice was firm. "Don't you dare take anymore pills, understand? You can't- Tony? Don't drink anymore either."

"Not the boss of me, remember?" Tony retorted as he swayed in his seat. "You… are not. So shut up."

"Listen to me, Tony. JARVIS is tracking you and Happy is ready to come and get you when he locates you from the GPS on your phone." Steve sounded genuinely worried.

Ignoring Steve's request, Tony took yet another swig of his drink. As the bitter liquid ran down his throat, however, he gagged suddenly as his chest constricted in protest. His ribs. Again. They were really starting to be a pain in the ass. Then he started coughing...and couldn't find the breath to stop.

"Tony?" Steve sounded panicked now. "Tony!" God, what was going on? He should have known that he couldn't come on this mission- leaving Tony alone had been a bad idea. Damn Fury and his insistence that Iron Man would be fine. "Listen to me. Breathe. Breathe, dammit!"

Tony just couldn't stop coughing. His arm clutched at his torso, which felt like it was on fire because of his ribs. "Trying-" he managed to wheeze before another round of coughing began.

Steve was literally on the verge of a panic attack. They were in Tokyo now, and were awaiting orders to infiltrate the HYDRA facility, but just wanting to get home to Tony was becoming a much more serious priority. He could hear Tony coughing over the phone, his breath coming out in stilted gasps, and right when Steve was about to blow, Happy's voice was suddenly in his ear.

"I got him."

"Did he stop coughing?" Steve asked anxiously.

"Yeah, mostly 'cause he's half out of it."

"Get him to the hospital." Steve told him, biting his bottom lip.

"No! No...hospitals." Tony's voice was weak and hoarse. "Please...no."

Steve sighed shakily, thinking. If all went well with the mission, he could be back at the Tower by evening in 2 days. Who would take care of Tony? Happy? He didn't have any medical experience. Then it hit him. Surely if Fury was aware of Tony's situation, he'd let Bruce be flown back to New York. Steve would feel much better about Bruce watching Tony than a random doctor. "Drive him home, please. If he gets worse, call me immediately. I'll get back to you."

"Of course."

Steve let out a sigh when Happy hung up the phone, and for a moment, all he could do was stand there. He pressed his own phone to his chest and took a few steadying breaths, before turning around, looking back at the rest of the team. They were chatting with each other, but when they saw him turn around, their expressions became curious and they looked to him. "Tony is an idiot."

Clint snorted. "Well, duh, Cap."

Steve glared at him for a second and then looked to Banner, his eyes wide. "So, uhm, Bruce?" he swallowed, mind still racing on the fact that he would need to call Fury here, soon. "I'm going to ask you for a favor, and I'm going to need you to say yes."

******

2 hours later, Steve watched with a heavy heart as Bruce boarded a second quinjet to rendezvous with Stark Tower. Convincing Bruce hadn't been a problem; he wasn't too keen on letting the Hulk manage a controlled invasion in what was supposed to be a "quiet" mission, yet Fury was a whole different story.

He must've argued with the director at least a half an hour to let the doctor go home and take care of Tony, who had gotten himself sick out of his own stupidity because they left him alone. Finally Fury relented, grudgingly so, and as much Steve wanted to push to let himself go too, he decided not to push anymore buttons.

"What happened, anyway? You've been rambling about him being sick and all, but you didn't explain how." Clint studied him questioningly.

Steve let out a long, slow breath as he looked towards Clint. "Tony decided it would be a good idea to mix alcohol with his medication." He looked extremely tired now- he was just so worried- and he rubbed a hand over his face. "Idiot."

"Can't say I'm surprised," Clint muttered, though he was shaking his head slightly. "Tony is definitely an idiot though. I won't disagree with that. But… Hey, Bruce is going to be there now, so try not to worry too much. You know he won't let Tony do anything else stupid."

"That's not the whole story, is it?" Natasha said skeptically. "Something made Tony freak out."

The super solider uncomfortable readjusted his shield, wanting more than anything to run off into battle to let off some steam. Usually he dreaded it, but these days... "He found out about Pepper being engaged to Rhodey."

"Wasn't Rhodey his best friend?" Clint asked, frowning.

"Yeah. They're still friends, anyway...just not as close. Though I doubt they're in good terms in Tony's mind now." Steve explained.

Thor poked his head out from the cockpit door. "We are ready to intercept, my friends. I feel that this should be an easy mission, yes?"

"I hope it's just quick." Steve muttered under his breath as the doors opened.

******

For however long Tony's drunken stupor lasted, he was only aware of his headache, his ribs burning, the and heaves as he threw up his guts as Happy shouted that he was puking on his good seats. He was also aware of not being able to lay comfortably. His chest ached and throbbed at all positions. When he asked for painkillers, Happy had looked at him sadly and shook his head.

"You kinda lost that privilege, boss. Gotta wait till the alcohol is out of your system. Besides, we're not even home yet."

When he finally lost consciousness from the bumpy ride, he couldn't help but think that maybe he'd overstepped his limits. Also, Rhodey was an asshole.  
*******

Steve was distracted.

He knew he needed to focus on the task at hand- he needed to worry about HYDRA and stopping this nuclear-whatever-issue, but he couldn't. His mind was elsewhere. His mind was with his husband, who he truly wanted to be with at the moment. He wanted to be there to see that he was truly alright, and take care of him. God.

It didn't help that the mission had abruptly been cut short before it could even begin. Fury called in that it wasn't secure and they needed to wait another 8 hours in the damn jet. This, he might add, is a bit crowded when you have an impatient, enormous, bulky demi-god to house.

"Captain!"

He blinked, looking up to realize it was Natasha who had spoken to him.

"Focus."

"I am-"

"You're not. Focus."

Steve nodded to Natasha, knowing the woman wouldn't be too happy if he couldn't get his head in the game. He tightened his shoulders and the 5 Avengers stepped out of the quin-jet. It had landed about 90 kilometers from the base, just 50 feet short of the nearest patrol section of HYDRA. Clint automatically made for the trees, having mastered tree climbing and "flying". The archer could easily glide from tree to tree, and Steve knew that he could take out any agents on the way.

He motioned for Thor to make his way to the right and Natasha to the left. Both acknowledging this silently, Steve focused his attention on the center. He started running, dodging the tall forest trees and soon as he started pumping his legs to their full speed, the first HYDRA agent came into view. Raising his shield, the vibranium-laced object connected with the man's head even before he could raise his weapon to shoot. As he continued running, a few more fell to the ground, clearing a path. He smiled to himself. Thanks, Clint.

Using his enhanced memory to show him the way through the thick forest to the base entrance, he thought absently to himself that this would be much easier to navigate and communicate if Tony were above the skies in his Iron Man suit. Don't think about Tony, he told himself firmly.

But how could he not think about Tony? His husband had lost his memory of not only his team but everything that made up his life from then till now, nearly drank himself to oblivion out of pure frustration and sadness; who knows what other stupid thing Tony might try to do? Thor's heavy footfalls behind him snapped him out of his thoughts, and saw Natasha just ahead at the base wall, within arm's reach of a hulking guard; she aimed a single, precise kick at his wrist and the clatter of his gun against the floor mingled with his growling curses. She spun. Her opposite foot swung down in a sharp, scything arc until her heel clipped his jaw with a satisfying thud. The guard fell back on his back, unconscious and bleeding profusely from his mouth.

Steve blinked, marveling how quick, precise, and professional her martial arts were. He tended to use his strength to his advantage, while the Black Widow used weak points of the body. She smirked at him. "Still in the game, Captain?"

Ignoring the comment, he looked to the trees. "Clint?"

"I used Tony's comm jammer to hack the cameras. All they'll be seeing is pretty greens. The easy part is over, at least for you guys, seeing as I did all the work." Clint hopped down, a couple of leaves and twigs sticking to his hair.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Sure, bird brain."

"Bird brain," Clint scoffed as he ran a hand through his hair, ridding it of the few leaves and twigs that remained. "Call me what you want, but you know that I'm-"

"Friends, now might not be the time to discuss such matters," Thor interjected as he twirled Mjolnir in his hand. "We have other pressing matters that we must attend to."

"Yeah, yeah," Clint muttered, shooting a glare towards Natasha before he looked to the to the others. "Ready to get this shit done?"

Yes, oh yes, Steve thought. He was ready to get it done, and go home. Go home to Tony. His thoughts drifted to the genius once more and it wasn't until Natasha nudged him that he realized they were moving on. "Right, sorry," he muttered.

******

When Tony came to, he was still asking for medication. "Happy… Happy, come on. I've gotta have some. Those little blue pills work wonders," he insisted, frustrated when the other man would just shake his head.

"Sorry, boss."

Sorry boss. Right. Tony scowled as he shifted in bed, groaning as it caused an explosion of pain in his ribs. "Shiiiiit," he closed his eyes and sighed. "Just put me out of my misery. It'll make all of this-" He abruptly stopped and gasped, a hand flying up to his head with a sharp pain.

_"Just put me out of my misery, Steve. It'll make everything so much better. You won't have to listen to my bitching, and I won't have to be in pain. See? Great."_

_"Tony…" Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head, reaching over to smooth back the billionaire's hair from where he sat beside the bed. "You're making a big fuss over such a little thing."_

_"I fractured my collarbone and a rib! That isn't little! It… it..."_

_"You're being a diva."_

_"A diva?"_

_"Diva." Steve's face was completely serious as he spoke, but he soon broke out into a grin and leaned forward, kissing Tony soundly on the mouth. "Not to mention, I'd be awfully lonely if I were to put you out of my misery. You sort of keep me sane."_

_"Me?" His voice sounded incredulous. "You're saying that I, Tony Stark, keep you sane?"_

_"Sure do." Steve said in that same tone, his blue eyes sparkling with love. So much love. "It's 'cause I love ya, I guess. And nothing's ever gonna change that."_

"Shit." He was gasping; his mind reeling as he finally came back to reality, shocked by the sudden memory. His most detailed one yet, he realized in his daze as Happy fretted, repeatedly asking if he was alright.

Tony's vision returned to normal, Happy's worried face looming over him. His heart was pounding, head swimming, this time not from the lasting effects of alcohol. He closed his eyes again, trying to calm down.

That vision had been incredibly tense. If he thought they were a drag before, the short clippings felt like nothing compared to this. His heart felt like it was being squeezed now, as if one part of him held his "love" for Steve and the other part was pushing it back like a void. He felt the love, but his mind wasn't registering it. It made his already pained head hurt even more. Would the damn headache EVER go away, or had it permanently planted itself there

"Tony, try to hang in there for 20 minutes, and you can have some of the red pills."

"The red ones aren't as-" he raised his head up and realized that he wasn't talking to Happy anymore. "Bruce?"

******

"Hmm. They got this placed locked down tight." Clint commented, fingers prodding the wall. "Should we knock?"

"I don't think the enemy would find that as polite as we do." Thor frowned. "Saddening that our big green friend isn't here. Surely smashing would be more productive?"

"No smashing needed. We just need to climb over." Natasha told them, then looked towards Clint. "Maybe we should just stick with knocking, anyway."

Clint grinned zealously. "Be my pleasure, Widow."

"Hurry. We don't have all day." Steve said, far too scornful for his own liking.

"Watch it, Cap." Clint replied menacingly, clearly not going to tolerate Steve's impatience. He descended to the entrance, a tightly sealed metal door in place. He set his bow and arrow, prepared, and...knocked.

To all their surprise, the door slid from the bottom, revealing a guard. "Hasn't anyone ever told you its dangerous to open the door to strangers?" Clint asked.

The guard just stared for a moment in confusion, until Thor abruptly moved forward and smacked him on the side of the head with mjlonir. "There. Now we must move forward," he stated, catching a glimpse of Steve's satisfied nod. It was obvious that he was in a hurry. "Captain, it may not be wise to rush," he reminded him. "we must be-"

"Look," Steve muttered as he stepped inside the facility, shield at the ready. "I've got it. Now let's go."

He could tell that the 3 were concerned for him, mostly that he was anxious and unfocused. Now that they were getting close, Steve was deadset on charging in and commencing the attack (Tony would get a kick out of this) without a plan. He glanced around. Already more guards were nearing them. "Same deal, Avengers. Get to the main corridor and we'll find the codes, evacuate the building, and destroy it."

"And we're sure that there's no nukes inside?" Clint asked, arching an eyebrow.

Steve mentally cursed himself. He hadn't done all the info reading out of his worry for Tony. Usually Tony would've downloaded it into the suit and inform them, but...Dammit. "I'm sure."

Natasha looked suspicious of his word, and that was rare. But she shrugged and began to move toward the right. Steve nodded at Clint to go ahead and get to the roofs so he could secure the perimeter, and Thor moved to the left, twirling Mjlonir at the ready. Steve put out his shield and started running again, knowing his teammates would manage fine. Compared to the alternative, this mission looked easy.

Yet as made their way, and Steve realized the outside was nearly empty. Either they were being sneakier than they'd hoped, or it was a trap.

******

Was that really Bruce, or was he imagining something here? "Uh, hello," he muttered, rubbing at his forehead for a moment. He blinked once more before he leaned his head back against the pillow, just staring at the doctor.

"Before you ask, Steve convinced Fury that I come back to look after you," Bruce said simply as he looked at the medication bottle he was holding, reading the label. "Considering you scared the shit out of him with your little move, I don't really blame him." He put the bottle down now and sighed softly.

"You heard, huh?" Tony smiled weakly.

"We all did. And quite frankly, we think you're an idiot." Bruce told him, but his voice was kind. "I do, too."

Tony didn't answer, just carefully sat up and leaned back against the pillows, facing away from Bruce's gaze. Wait for it...wait...

"Steve is really worried about you, you know."

And there it is. Tony simply grunted in response, hoping Bruce would just go away. He just wanted to sleep. And get rid of the damn headache. "Been 20 minutes yet?"

"No. And if you fall asleep now, by the way, your back muscles will be clenched up and you're going to hurt even more. So stay awake."

Tony let out a short, annoyed huff. "But I want to sleep..." he muttered, shaking his head slightly. Sleep was supposed to be good and make you feel better, but noooo, it was going to make his muscles clench up or whatever. Ugh. "Been 20 minutes yet?"

"No, Tony. Asking every five seconds isn't going to make time pass any quicker, either."

"Fine, fine," he grumbled and closed his eyes, trying to ease the pounding of his head.

*******

Steve's eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced around, not knowing if he should be suspicious or if they should count themselves lucky. Perhaps the universe was finally, finally giving him a break. "Thank god," he muttered. He was starting to think they weren't going to encounter anymore guards when he heard the sound of Mjonir connecting with what sounded like someone's head, and he glanced to his far left.

"This is easier than anticipated!" Thor smirked.

"Don't get comfy, boys," Natasha said sharply. The finally made it to the first corridor, and Steve followed Thor to where most of the HYDRA guards were to help Natasha and Clint make their way to find the codes. According to their intel, it was stored on a flash drive in the tech room, on the corner of the building.

As Steve used his shield to fend off the guards, he let his body get into the rhythm of swinging, and his mind drifted. He kept thinking of Tony. He thought of Tony's laugh, his smirk, his easygoing persona. He also thought of his PTSD, his nightmares, and the way his left hand twitched when he felt anxious...flaws that Steve didn't mind. He learned that although it was part of him, it didn't define him. What defined Tony was his strength of heart.

He realized he'd never seen Tony act this bad. Natasha had mentioned his rash behavior during the palladium poisoning situation, with his drinking and driving his own race car. He wasn't sure if this was worse. He was eager to confront Tony about his incident, first to chew him out and then get him to really talk. Of course, that was going to be near impossible.

"STEVE!"

Steve snapped his attention back to reality, realizing that almost all the guards were down; Thor was just finishing up the last remaining. Who had yelled in his earpiece? Clint? "Hawkeye?"

"You said there was no nukes in here!"

Steve's heart plummeted. "There shouldn't be!"

"Then _why_ am I staring at one right now that's set to blow?!"


	9. Nightmare

Shit. He shouldn't have guessed. He should've called SHIELD and double checked. Why hadn't he? Why in hell hadn't he? "Can-can you dismantle it?"

"I'm no Tony Stark, but he did give me some info. Lemme get back to you. For now, make sure Natasha has the codes." Clint reported.

Clint looked at the massive bulk of the weapon before him, and gulped. He should've taken notes or something. Seeing tools scattered at the edge of the room, he grabbed an electric screwdriver and got to work. Turn, shift…release the circular piece, that's what holds it together. Keep taking it apart until you get to the layer before the core.

Okay. He could do this. Keep Tony's voice in his head, and he could do this.

Steve wanted to punch himself. How could he have missed this and made this kind of mistake? He knew he was distracted and thinking of Tony, but now he just felt horrible. "Hawkeye-"

"Quiet," Clint muttered, his voice quivering slightly. He wanted to be able to focus, considering he was handling a damn nuke. God. What was it Tony had said about this? He glanced to the tool in his hands and gulped, before going back to work.

"Captain," Natasha said over the comm, "what's going on?"

Steve hesitated answering, biting his lip. Swallowing hard, he said quietly, "There's a nuke in here."

"What?!" Natasha's voice went from calm to furious in a split second. "Captain, its YOUR responsibility to check these things!"

"I know. I'm sorry. I-"

"Is Clint dismantling it?"

"Yes, but-"

"You listen to me, Cap. For the rest of this mission, you better pay attention and keep it together or I will make sure that you will be stuck in a conference room for the next three days explaining to Fury himself that you were so wrapped up in your emotions you could have caused a nuclear explosion!" It was then Steve was reminded that Natasha was a first class assassin that took no shit.

"Almost got it," Clint grunted through the comm. "I think we're going to get lucky on this one."

***********

"You know, if you want to keep me awake, you should be more entertaining than just feeling me up," Tony muttered as Bruce checked his injuries.

The doctor arched an eyebrow, irritated. "Would you like to me to sing?"

"Oh, look! You made a funny!" Tony scoffed, trying to push away Bruce's hands from his chest. Bruce frowned suddenly as his hand brushed against the arc reactor.

"Have you ever had a doctor look into your base plate?"

"Nope. They're strictly ordered not to." Tony glared at Bruce. "I don't like people poking around in there. Too risky."

Ignoring Tony's comment, he continued to stare at it. "And how far in is it?"

"None of your business."

Bruce sighed. "I'm just concerned, is all. If its imbedded into your sternum, then that could cause problems if you keep breaking your damn ribs."

"You don't have to worry about it," Tony muttered with a shake of the head. "Not to mention, its none of your-"

"I'm just trying to help."

"I can handle it," Tony ground out, a glare directed at Bruce.

The doctor sighed. "Right. Handle it," he muttered. "Because your methods of handling things are just so effective."

"My handling of things are very efficient. Ask anyone."

"If I asked your husband, he'd disagree." Bruce said hotly, moving on to examine his fractured wrist. "When was the last time you took a shower? You look like shit."

"Thanks, _doctor_." Tony mumbled, closing his eyes. As soon as he did so, whatever energy that had kept him talking left and he could hardly fine the strength to open them again per Bruce's request.

"You're 5 minutes short, but I doubt you're going to last that long. Here." the doctor handed him two red pills and he swallowed them. "Have fun in dreamland."

As Tony succumbed to the darkness, something stirred in his mind, a familiar feeling of dread, and he found himself praying silently that this medication wouldn't trigger any nightmares...

*********

Bruce watched with a frown as Tony promptly fell asleep, and he let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Bastard thinks he can handle everything..." he glanced towards Happy then. "So how bad was he when you found him? Where'd you find him anyways, a bar? Steve was so worried he could hardly take a breath to really explain it to me." He shook his head. The captain had been rambling so fast that Bruce had only caught little snippets of information before he finally got him to calm down so that they could call Fury.

Happy shrugged, plopping down in a seat next to Tony's bedside. "I'm no doctor, Doc, but he didn't look good. He was hacking a lung out and a fever was already growing."

"That's expected. Did he say anything to you at all?"

"Ah, well, you know Tony. Always a happy drunk," Happy smiled fondly before thinking for a second. "However now that I think about it, he was rambling a lot in the car ride home. Kept asking for Pepper, and then Steve, like he was confused who he really should be asking for. Which is weird. If Tony didn't remember Steve at all, why would he be asking for him?"

Bruce frowned slightly. Why would he, indeed? Both he and Happy knew very well that Tony didn't just ask for help unless the person was very close to him. It was clear that Tony doesn't feel the way he did about Steve before the accident. Though Happy did mentioned that Tony was barely lucid, if at all.

"Maybe his subconscious is remembering his bond with Steve," his eyes widened. "He may not be aware consciously what Steve means to him, but..."

"I know nothing about that." Happy said, smirking. "I don't think I ever been in love. Anyway, I better go tell Pepper what happened. I bet she's worried about him."

"Tell her I said hello and not to worry about Tony; we'll make sure he's okay."

Happy waved goodbye and left, leaving Bruce with a sleeping Tony. He looked at his face and noticed that the various cuts and bruises were fading, but his face was scrunched up in discomfort. "You never make things easy, do you, Stark?" he sighed.

********

"Look," Steve started, "I just-"

"Got it." Clint said through the comm, sounding extremely relieved. He leaned back and tossed the tool in his hands aside, letting out a long breath as it clattered to the floor. "Damn good thing, too. It was set to blow in, like, two minutes."

There was a small sound of annoyance coming from Natasha's end, and for a moment, Steve expected her to start yelling at him again. Thankfully, she didn't. "Alright," her voice sounded eerily calm, like she was forcing herself not to snap. "Good work, Barton."

"The threat has been detained, dear Captain. Don't let this fault you." Thor told him assuredly, and Steve was grateful that at least someone wasn't going to be furious at him. He doubted anyone else would be too pleased with him for the next few days. S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel will be giving him death glares until a novice agent screws up. He swears that its not unlike high school when it comes to the agents.

Natasha was noticeably silent. He knew that despite her support with the situation with Tony, she was still a professional at her line of work and mistakes like Steve's were not tolerable in her book.

"Well, base is cleared, codes are retrieved, nuclear bomb is dismantled...I think we did okay." Clint said weakly. He sounded a bit shaken behind his relief. "I want to get out of here."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. will bring in some experts anyway. We can go now." He could barely contain his enthusiasm. There was no need to stay in Japan, they'd be free to go home. Home is where Tony was. So as they called up the helicarrier and stood in the base courtyard waiting, he ignored Natasha's glares and Clint's disappointed looks. A small helicopter landed near them and they boarded it, Clint giving the officials a brief description of the dismantled nuke.

When they landed on the carrier, Steve was about to exit when Natasha grabbed his arm and steered him away into where the quinjets were. "There is a ship waiting for you and Clint. I will stay here and explain to Fury what happened. Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind."

"Nat, you don't have to-"

"Steve," her eyes burned into his, "shut up and go."

Steve wasn't exactly sure if he should be grateful for the gesture or frightened for when he encountered Natasha and Fury later.

But who was he kidding, he was just ready to go home right now. Steve was ready to see Tony with his own two eyes and truly see if he was okay, even if he knew the genius might be annoyed by his presence. It hurt a bit when he thought about Tony's obvious distaste for Steve hovering so much, but he told himself to just ignore that. Things would... they would go back to normal, right?

He bit his lip. Hopefully, he thought as he headed off, throwing one last glance over his shoulder in Natasha's direction.

*******

Bruce rubbed at his forehead as he let his mind drift and he thought of the team, wondering if everything was going according to plan. Something just told him it wasn't- because, honestly, when did it ever with them?- and he sighed. Not like he could do anything from here, really.

"No..."

A mumble interrupted him and he glanced back to Tony, who's face was still scrunched with discomfort. His head rolled to the side slightly and he noticed the corner of his mouth twitch, down into a frown.

Ah. He was dreaming, apparently.

Bruce wringed his hands in his lap, watching Tony's face carefully. He didn't want to wake the recovering billionaire up; if he did, he may not want to sleep at all and demand that he go in his lab to work.

Just stay calm, Tony...he pleaded silently.

His hopes went unheard. Tony gasped slightly, sweat starting to bead down on his face. He seemed to want to turn, but his ribs obviously stopped that, from his cry of pain. "No...Yinsen!"

Hesitantly, he picked up the phone and decided to call Steve. Maybe he had any tricks to help Tony with his nightmares without waking him up.

********

Steve had just boarded the quinjet and changed out of his uniform into a t-shirt and jeans and flopped down into a chair. Clint was humming from the cockpit, probably congratulating himself on a job well done.

He was about to say something when his phone rang. He fumbled it out of his pocket and saw from the Caller ID said "Bruce". Frowning slightly, he answered it. "Bruce? Is Tony okay?" he immediately asked.

"Well, he was fine. He fell asleep not that long ago. Now it looks like he's having a nightmare."

Steve swallowed a little. "How bad?"

"Sweating, attempting to toss and turn, and I think its getting worse. Any ideas on how to calm him down without waking him up? Knowing Tony, he's not going to want to rest again after he has a dream like this."

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, wishing that he could be there himself to comfort Tony right now. He guessed he would just have to deal with it, since he didn't really have any other option, but he didn't particularly like it. "Uhm, well, stroke his hair. That usually helps," he said, thinking. "And tell him he's okay, that he's safe..." He listened for a moment, wincing as he heard Tony whimper through the phone. Oh, yeah, it was going to be a bad one. He could tell and... dammit, why couldn't they be back at the tower already?!

"Bruce? Is it helping at all?"

"A little, I guess...who's Yinsen?" Bruce asked.

Steve winced. Tony must be dreaming about his time in Afghanistan. That's not good. Those dreams were the worst. Often times, usually when Tony was sick, he'd forget where he was, locked in the throes of his nightmare, yelling for Yinsen, the doctor who saved his life and died saving it a second time. "Bruce, tell him he's not in Afghanistan."

"What?"

"Just...tell him. Make sure he knows where he is."

"You think he's dreaming about the cave?"

"I know he is."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose as he could calmly hear Bruce talking to Tony. He let out a breath, hoping it was helping. "Anything?"

"It's helping some, but he's still saying it..." Steve could feel Bruce frowning through the phone. 

"Um, hold his hand. And keep stroking his hair. And.." Steve tried to think of something else for the doctor to do, but he just grew more frustrated. Why couldn't he be there, dammit?

Tony flinched violently at Bruce's touch suddenly, his arms lashing out- where had Tony's sling gone? He wasn't supposed to take it off- Bruce barely dodged an incoming fist to his face, and he sat down the phone on the floor, ignoring Steve's cries of "Bruce? Bruce?"

Bruce gripped Tony's shoulders, trying to hold the man down so that he wouldn't injure himself further. Already he could see that the pain in moving was taking its toll on Tony, from the way he shuddered. "Tony, its okay. You're in New York...not in Afghanistan! Calm down!"

Steve felt utterly helpless as he listened. "Bruce?" he tried again, wishing the doctor would answer him.

Bruce cursed under his breath as he watched Tony still try to struggle against his grasp. "Hey," he said gently. "You're fine. You're at the Tower, in your room, you-"

"No!" The billionaire cried weakly, trembling as he made a feeble attempt to jerk away from Bruce. "No..."

Steve listened, realizing it sounded like Tony was finally calming down. He let out a relieved breath, though he froze when he heard what came out of Tony's mouth next.

" _Steve? Where's Steve?_ "

Bruce blinked in surprise. Had Tony just called for Steve? He swallowed hard as Tony went still again, lines ceasing on his face as he relaxed. He continued to hold his shoulders until he was sure it was over, and when he released his grip, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He reached down and picked up the phone. "He's okay."

"He...he just called for me."

The hopeful wonder in Steve's voice made Bruce's heart pang. He wished he could explain to Steve that it was only Tony's subconscious memories causing that, and not his feelings, but he didn't. "He's definitely remembering things."

"I knew it. I could tell before we left there was a lot of signs, you know? It made me so mad that we had to leave right when Tony's getting better. At this rate, he could be back to normal earlier than we thought." Steve reminded Bruce of an excited child now.

"Maybe," he agreed faintly. "Let's hope."

Honestly, though, he had a dreadful feeling it wouldn't be as easy as that.

For the first time in a while, Steve smiled, just slightly. The thought of Tony getting better was just extremely exciting to him. Sure, he was only remembering small stuff right now, but surely that would improve. "Let me know if anything comes up, okay?"

"I will. I'll call you," Bruce nodded, knowing all to well that Steve was probably getting his hopes built up for something that possibly wouldn't happen. "Get home safely."

"Will do," Steve nodded before he hung up, sighing softly as his hands fell to his lap.

"What's up? You sounded a little worried." Clint peeked his head around. "Tony okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. He had a nightmare." he told him. "Did you know he's remembering things?"

Clint shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I don't know, I had my guesses. Little things. Why, did he admit it?"

"No, but Bruce and I are positive that some things are coming back. Like how he called for me when he was having the nightmare, and calling me nicknames from before..." Steve explained.

"Oh," Clint nodded, then added reluctantly, "Erm, I'm no expert, but aren't you just a bit scared that he's going to keep denying it altogether? Like, even if you remember something, I wonder if the emotions you felt come with it?"

Steve hadn't really thought a lot about that. He figured that that was the case. It felt all too complicated for him; what was Tony going to feel as the memories come? What did Steve even expect? That Tony would remember their times together and just...feel the love as he did before? He bit his lip before shaking his head. "He will. Tony'll remember all of us, and it'll be fine."

Clint didn't looked convinced. "Okay."

Steve chewed on his lower lip, trying to convince himself that everything truly would be fine, and that Tony would remember everything and it'd all be normal again.

Clint sighed softly, before deciding to change the subject. "So," he said and then promptly realized he didn't know what to change the subject to. Whoops. So much for that, he thought.

"You think he'll be okay, right?" Steve said abruptly. "Right?"

"Um," Clint blinked. "Right. Yeah. Tony will.. be fine."

Steve didn't seem to hear, lost in his thoughts. "What happens if he won't? What do you think will happen?"

"I..." God, what he gotten himself into? He wasn't good at these things, and Natasha made sure to remind him. He wished, not for the first time and certainly not the last, that he'd just kept his big mouth shut. "I really have no idea."

"I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't get better." Steve whispers softly, looking at the ground from his chair. "I couldn't take it."

Clint frowned. "Hey. Listen up, buddy. If Tony doesn't get better, yeah, it'll suck. It's going to suck for a while. But you'll still have us, even if its not all the same. On the contrary, we don't know what's going to happen, so we might as well keep it together and take it day by day, got it?"

"Yeah," the captain said miserably.

"You really think moping is going to help?"

"Clint, just...shut up, okay?" Steve glared at him suddenly. Clint, exasperated at the change in mood, threw his hands up in mock surrender.

"Aye, aye, Captain."

There was a pause, and then Steve let out a small sigh. "Sorry…" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"It's alright," the archer replied easily. "I get that you're all stressed out and whatnot. You've got reason to be."

"Yeah."

"Hell yeah is more like it, really," Clint shrugged, throwing a glance in Steve's direction. "Anyways, you know what would help you feel better? A big, nice cheeseburger. I bet it would. We'll stop on the way back to get-"

Steve shook his head. "Don't really want one," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Right. Well." Nevermind, then.

The 8 hour transport lasted into the night, and Clint and Steve kept silent the rest of the way. Clint fiddled with his arrows, then when he got bored with that he sat up in the cockpit with the pilot, longing to pilot himself. Steve knew he loved the feeling of flying, even if he did get a little sick to his stomach if he ever gets lifted by Iron Man to a perch.

Steve, personally, hated flying. He had reason to. After all, it'd been a plane that had crashed into the ice that froze him for nearly 70 years. So yeah, airplanes? Not really his thing anymore. He's gotten used to it, but the edge was still there. Tony of all of them loved flying the best. And not in an airplane. The super sonic speeds of his suit made him disregard the military planes, having claimed they were way too slow. Which, compared to his suit, it was...

Steve drifted off dreaming about Tony flying.

The next thing he was aware of was Clint shaking him.

"Cap," the archer was saying, nudging his arm. He was looking at him expectantly, almost with an expression that said, 'I will slap you if I have to.'

"Rise and shine. Time to exit the aircraft."

Steve blinked, looking around for a second. He'd just been dreaming about Tony and was a bit disappointed to be awakened from that. However, when he realized what Clint was saying, he bolted from his seat with every intention to hurry up and get the heck off this thing.

*******

"Jesus Christ..." Everything hurt. And it was bright in the room. Way too bright.

"Morning, sleeping beauty."

He recognized Bruce's voice and he started a bit, taken off guard by the man sitting beside the bed, and still being a little shaken from his dreams. "Uh.." he tried to sit up, but quickly realized that wasn't a good idea. "Have I been out for a while?"

"Yeah."

"Right.." he groaned, rubbing his ponding head. "I need more meds."

He half expected to be denied so when Bruce handed him two red pills and a plastic cup filled with water he took it gratefully. "Still no blue? You're breaking my heart, Banner."

"Yeah, well, we'll have to have some trust exercises. How does that sound?" Bruce said drolly.

"I'm serious, I admire you intense sarcasm. Its very heartfelt. I could learn something from you."

Bruce rolled his eyes as Tony tried to get off the bed and failing pathetically. "Aren't you just cute?"

"You aren't a very nice doctor." Tony muttered, stuffing his face into his pillow as waves of pain ran through his body.

"Well-"

"I need to rest. I know, I know." he growled. He heard Bruce talking about how Steve was on his way from the airlift and would be back in a few minutes, but he ignored it and squinted through the light. "JARVIS, can you dim the lights, please?"

The AI did, and Bruce sighed. Tony could practically feel the annoyance radiating off the doctor. Shrugging, he picked up a tablet that lay on the bedside table and fiddled with an abandoned document that had been left behind from "before the accident" Tony. Could he just say "before" Tony? Although that wouldn't make a lot of sense since he was past Tony. Thinking about that logic made his head hurt more than it did already. Bruce didn't say anything, just fiddled with his phone.

Then he heard the door to the Tony and Steve's floor open.

Steve practically flew into the bedroom, his eyes wide. When he saw Tony in the bed he relaxed just slightly and walked over, shooting a glance to Bruce that said thank you. He was so glad the doctor had been able to come back and watch over Tony. "Hey." He managed a smile and looked at his husband, eyebrows raised as he tried his best to seem cheerful. "How are you feeling?"

"Shitty," Tony mumbled, looking away as Steve walked closer. It wasn't that he was annoyed about him being back… he just didn't want to deal with the constant worry and hovering that came with Steve. It nearly drove him crazy. "Saved the world and all that?"

"Something like that," Steve mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Do you need anything?" He looked down at Tony with a look of concern, wanting to make sure the man was comfortable. He simply couldn't help it- he wanted to be sure he was alright.

 _Ah, so there was the hovering. Already,_ Tony thought. _It was going to be a long day._


	10. Chapter 10

"Tony?"

"I'm fine."

"Right..." Steve mumbled and then glanced away.

Bruce looked between the two and stood up from the chair. "I'm going to go take a shower and eat. See you guys later,"

Steve nodded a thanks to Bruce again and then looked back at Tony, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. He narrowed his eyes at him. "You're an idiot."

Tony groaned and leaned his head back. "Is everyone going to tell me that?"

"Yes. You are in some hot water now. What the hell were you thinking? You nearly gave me a heart attack! Drinking alcohol, whiskey no less, while on pain medications?! Do you honestly think that was going to help with your life problems?" Steve didn't mean to raise his voice, but all pent up worry was coming out of him like a torrent.

What made it worse was that Tony didn't seem to be listening.

"That's not all. I know you're remembering things, Tony, so don't deny-"

"The hell do you know I'm remembering-"

Steve didn't let him interrupt. "Just talk to me! Tell me what you're thinking. I can help!"

"I'm not remembering anything, Steve!" Tony shouted angrily.

"You are! I'm not stupid, Tony!"

"Well it's not like I want your help anyways!" Tony shouted, his eyes narrowing.

"And why not? I'm your husband, and I-"

"No you're not!

Steve stopped, his brow furrowing. "Yes, I am. What are you talking about? We are-"

"Well not to me!" Tony snapped in his anger. "I don't even know you, Steve. I don't. You aren't really my husband in my eyes."

Well that hurt. Steve stopped, just staring for a moment, until his shoulders slumped. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "I just want to help you."

"Well, don't bother!"

Steve felt like his heart was being clawed open. Whatever mutual relationship Tony had played before the mission had left and been replaced by the bitter truth: Tony didn't know Steve at all. He was a stranger trying to make the "past" real again in Tony's eyes.

And Steve was stuck praying that the past was the present. Had it really only been just 2 weeks when they were discussing adoption and getting ready for their (Tony's demanding) 2nd anniversary of being romantically involved with each other? He decided that if he couldn't be Tony's husband for the time being, he could at least try to be a friend.

"Can you just let me help as a friend?"

"What's there to help with? I'm suffering a hangover, not dying of cancer." Tony told him, crossing his arms.

"That's not what I mean." He replied, ornery.

Tony sighed, a bit dramatically, "How many times do I have to emphasize to you that I'm about as blank as when I woke up?"

"You are a horrible liar."

"Am not."

"I KNOW you, Tony, whether you like it or not and nothing that you say will cease my assumptions. Bruce knows that you are, Clint knows it, and I bet Natasha does too. Even Thor is suspicious."

"How could he know? I've seen him twice-"

"Not the point. What are we going to do about this, Tony?"

"You could back off."

"Sorry, but I'm not going to back off. The doctor said working together and showing you things you were accustomed to can help get your memories back," Steve said firmly. "And I think we should try. Have you looked at any more pictures? Because-"

"I don't want to, Steve," Tony said, exasperated. Why couldn't the man get it through his thick skull?

"Too bad!" Steve snapped as his anger returned. "You told me yourself in the hospital that you weren't going to give up on trying to remember. /You/ said that. And I'm not letting you give up."

"You aren't the boss-"

"STOP!" Steve stomped his foot, not caring that the action was childish. "Can't you just stop for a moment and see where I'm coming from?"

Tony didn't reply. He just looked away.

"I have been working my ass off to make sure that we get through this okay. I'm scared. I'm scared shitless. What do you think I'll do if..."

"If I don't love you again?" Tony scoffed. "Ever occur to you that even if I did get my memory back, which I haven't, I won't be your Tony again?"

"I don't know! But if you don't talk to me, that's not going to help either."

"I don't want to talk! Get that through your head okay?" Tony reached up to rub his forehead, wishing the pounding would stop. "Just... Just fuck off, Captain," he spat.

Steve stood there for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "No," he folded his arms over his chest. "You can't make me."

Tony's head was throbbing now from the yelling. He rolled over and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing Steve would just go. "Leave me alone."

Steve's voice was softer, more concerning. "Tony, please. Promise me you won't give up. At least that."

Tony refused to answer, glaring hotly at Steve with daggers. Then he released his gaze and closed his eyes again. "You can't make me." he mocked.

Steve clenched his jaw in an effort to keep himself from screaming. This was impossible, trying to reason with Tony. It always was. Angrily, he stomped off to the adjoining bathroom, both to get cleaned up and to get away from the infuriating billionaire.

Tony sighed. "Good riddance." He muttered under his breath, not caring that Steve's serum-enhanced hearing could probably pick that up.

Gritting his teeth, he went to the bathroom and stripped out of his uniform. Hopefully a nice, long shower would do the trick of calming his nerves. As he climbed into the shower and felt the hot water stream into his face, it did. He closed his eyes and let it wash away the dirt and grime.

Amidst the pain, Tony felt awful for his behavior. He wasn't being fair, or reasonable. He knew that. But he couldn't be around Steve without feeling weird. Like, "tingly feeling in the stomach" weird. No, he didn't have feelings for Steve. No way he could. He just met the man. Either way, he just wanted to be alone.

Or not. Maybe he just wanted everything to be the way it was. He guessed the latter.

Steve's shower had done its work. He exited, humming contentedly as he dried off his body with a towel and then his hair, casually strolling down into his and Tony's bedroom. Completely oblivious that he was wet and very naked.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before he opened his eyes, hearing Steve enter the room. He was hoping the man wouldn't try to bring up anything else. He was considering making a comment about it and he looked towards him to- well, hello there. He blinked, his eyes trailing over Steve's chiseled body. "Well." He found himself saying, for some reason unable to tear his eyes away. An unusual blush spread across his cheeks.

Steve looked up when he heard Tony say something. "Hm?" he blinked, his thoughts not even going to the fact that he still hadn't put clothes on.

"Erm. Steve?" he raised his eyebrows and motioned down. Steve followed his gaze and flushed furiously.

"Shit!" He hissed, covering his front with his hands and scrambling to wrap the towel around his waist. In his stumbling, his ankle twisted slightly and he slipped, falling to the floor. With Tony staring at him in bewilderment and a /stupid/ smile on his face, he snapped, "What?! Its not like you haven't seen it before."

With that, Tony seemed to lose control and he burst of laughing, nearly in hysterics.

Rolling his eyes and trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks, he held the towel to himself and began looking through the closet for clothes as Tony continued to laugh behind him.

Tony held his sides as he laughed, ignoring the annoying pang of protest his ribs gave at the action. It was nice to finally just let go after the last few days of frustration. "Cute, Cap, that was real cute." He paused to applaud Steve in a mocking manner, a smirk settling over his lips.

Steve emerged from the closed fully clothed, though a blush was still tinting his cheeks. "Oh… hush," he mumbled.

Tony put his hands up in mock innocence. "That was all on you Cap. All I did was play the audience. What, did you leave your head in the shower?"

"Force of habit" Steve muttered, scratching his scalp through his damp hair.

Tony smirked and went back to his tablet. He was thankful for the less tension, but that didn't take away the lingering anger that seemed to have aired itself through the room. "Hey, Cap?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry."

Steve looked at Tony for a moment, watching him, until he sighed. "Yeah. Me, too." He started to head towards the bed like he was going to flop down, but stopped himself when he realized that it might make the situation awkward. That was the last thing he wanted. "So, uhm," he looked towards Tony. "Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Alright. Well."

Steve shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "I'm gonna make something anyway."

Tony nodded absently and Steve sighed as he went to main kitchen up a floor, where Bruce was sipping a coffee and on the phone.

"Yeah, he just walked in..." Bruce said, giving him a look that said 'you're screwed'. "Tasha, you might wanna..."

Steve groaned slightly when he heard Natasha's name being mentioned and his blunder on the mission came flying back to him.

"Okay, I'll tell him. Bye."

"Am I in trouble?" He asked Bruce.

"Yup. Heard about the nuclear missile mistake. You know it wasn't your fault." he told the captain.

Steve snorted. "Yeah, sure," he looked around, "what should I make for lunch?"

Bruce arched an eyebrow at him. "You're horrible at cooking, Steve, remember?"

Steve sighed as he opened the refrigerator and peered inside. "I know, but.." he sighed again before he decided that he could manage heating up leftovers. There was some spaghetti in there, and he knew Tony liked that.

"Gonna make Tony eat?"

"Yeah, he needs to," Steve glanced to the doctor as he opened up the microwave.

Bruce nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he does." There was a pause, and then he spoke again. "But he doesn't need you yelling at him, you know."

Steve looked at Bruce in confusion as he picked out the spaghetti and put it in the microwave. "I wasn't yelling."

"I could hear you from here, Steve. Both of you."

"Tony was being stubborn."

"Yeah, I get that, but the more you push him closer, the more withdrawn he might get." Bruce reasoned.

"I was afraid he'd given up."

"You say he's remembering things, and he doesn't want to admit it. He's scared, too, because all these different things are coming at him in all different speeds and directions. How do you think he's taking it?"

"But he doesn't understand that I'm here to help. I just want to help him and he does not get that," Steve said as he turned back to stare at the microwave as it heated the food.

"And that is because he's scared. Steve, you know how Tony deals with things. You know he doesn't like to accept help from other people," Bruce said, watching the super soldier. He sighed. "You have to give him time.

"I'm trying, Bruce, but you-"

"No, Steve-"

"No one gets how I'm feeling!" Steve snapped as he whirled around, his eyes narrowed. He just glared at Bruce for a long moment before his shoulders slumped. "Sorry," he mumbled. "But I just… I know all of this is about Tony getting better, but I can't… it's hard for me to deal with it, too. It's like everyone expects me to just accept it, but I can't."

"Nobody expects you to accept it, Steve. What gave you that idea?" Bruce asked, frowning. "Not to mention that we're just as shaken by Tony's accident. We're his friends, too, you know. And all of us agree that giving Tony some space but still making sure he's not doing anything too stupid is a good idea."

Steve sighed shakily and plopped down in the chair. "I just want him back."

"I know."

Tony had managed to stumble from the bed and into an elevator with that of a hundredth of his usual strength. His ribs burned still but he managed, walking down the hallway to the main kitchen to see what Steve was making. In all honesty he actually was hungry, just too stubborn to outright admit it.

_"..And all of us agree that giving Tony some space but still making sure that he's not doing anything too stupid is a good idea..."_

Tony froze outside of the room. Who was talking about him? That sounded like Bruce. He peeked his head in slightly and saw Steve and Bruce standing toe to toe, both tense. Then Steve deflated and collapsed into a chair.

_"I just want him back."_

"Tony… he… he is everything to me," Steve continued after a moment, his voice quiet. "I mean, yes, I have the team, but Tony… he just completes it, you know?" He rubbed at his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. "I love him."

Hesitantly, Bruce placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We know you do."

"This just isn't fair. Not just for me, or us, but for Tony. He doesn't deserve to deal with this… this crap."

Tony stayed where he was, a small frown creasing his features as he listened. Well shit. What was he supposed to do about this now? Just bust in the room and act like he didn't hear anything?

He was Tony Stark. Damn right he was going to bust in and act like nothing happened. He took a step into the room, one arm automatically holding his side carefully. "Hey, what are you making, Steve? I changed my mind. I'm hungry."

Steve dragged his eyes away from Bruce and looked surprised and a little suspiciously at Tony. "How long were you standing there?"

"What do you mean? I just walked in. Now really, what's for lunch?"

"Leftover spaghetti. My specialty." Steve said dryly, taking the plastic container out of the microwave.

"That's a serious downgrade from the royal feast we had a few days ago," Tony wrinkled his nose, looking accusingly at Bruce, who just shrugged and smiled innocently.

"Well, you'll just have to deal with it. I doubt you'd be able to make anything better," Steve stated. He dished out some of the spaghetti onto a plate, and then slid it down the counter towards Tony.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Never know. I've got many talents." He snatched a fork from the counter and then stuck it into the pasta, quickly twirling his first bite around the utensil. He then looked between Bruce and Steve, his eyebrows raised. "Any reason you're both staring at me? I know you're probably drawn in by my perfect, handsome qualities, but come on."

Bruce looked uncomfortable at that, but Steve was unfazed. "You okay?"

"Yeah...mph...meds kicked in," he said, through another forkful of spaghetti. "Where is everyone?"

"Um, Natasha is on her way back from Japan with Thor now, and Clint's sleeping in his room, I think." Bruce explained.

"Why did Natasha and Thor have to stay longer?" Tony asked.

"Mission briefing." Steve mumbled.

Tony took in Steve's reaction carefully before he shrugged and continued to eat. Something felt a little off with Steve, more than usual. "Huh."

Bruce noticed too. "Don't worry. I'm sure Fury's in a good mood since nothing blew up." He assured the man.

"Thought you were just getting codes back."

"We had to improvise a little," Steve admitted, a guilty expression on his face.

Tony's eyebrows rose as he looked to Steve. "Really now? What happened?" he shoveled another bite of spaghetti into his mouth, waiting on a response of some sort.

Bruce coughed and looked away. This wasn't his business, so he wasn't going to get into it. Steve just shrugged. "Nothing major," he mumbled.

Now Tony was intrigued. He paused in his meal and leaned forward, speculating Bruce and Steve. "Don't leave me in the dark. C'mon, Capsicle, fess up."

Steve grimaced and looked down at his feet, shuffling. "I didn't read all of the information of the mission, that's all."

"Okay? And?"

"And I may have made the mistake of assuming there was no nuclear missiles in the base...

Tony's eyes bugged out. "Captain America almost caused a nuclear explosion?"

Steve closed his eyes. "Something like that..." When he opened them again, Tony was just giving him this incredulous look, and he sighed. "But it got taken care of. No nuclear disasters."

Tony eyed him a moment longer before glancing back down to his spaghetti. "Sounds like a close call, if you ask me. How the hell did you miss something like that?"

"Honestly, even being the captain and all, its usually you who gathers all the info and stores it onto Jarvis's hard drive or you'd just scan the building with your suit. And...I was distracted, I guess."

"So it's my fault." Tony scoffed.

"No! No, it's not. Definitely not." Steve said quickly. "Just...a stupid mistake on my end."

"Hm. That must be new for you."

Steve felt familiar irritation bubble up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tony feigned an innocent expression. "Oh, nothing," he said simply and slowly chewed the bite in his mouth. He could clearly see the look of irritation on Steve's face and he had to control his urge to smirk at it.

Steve let out an annoyed huff. "Don't 'oh nothing' me. You meant something by it. Tell me what it was," he demanded.

"Well, you're Captain America."

"So?" he bristled.

Tony rolled his eyes and splayed his arms. "Oh, Captain, my captain...you're a legendary public figure that everyone looks up to. What could possibly be done if you made a mistake?"

Steve scowled, having a sense of deja vu. When they first met, they'd been constantly at each other throats but still working together with a decent amount of professionalization, mostly Tony mocking Steve and Steve insulting his bravado. They hadn't even become friends until a fateful mission that Fury ordered that only Steve and Tony go on, and had crash landed in a field in rural Germany. Waiting for rescue in a abandoned barn in the rain while a concussed Tony spilled his guts to Steve had changed their relationship dramatically, and he tried to remember that as he looked into the familiar dark brown eyes filled with an unspoken challenge. "Knock it off, Tony. You're being low."

"I'm not being low. I'm stating the truth." Tony quipped. "Also, don't tell me what to do. I thought we'd been over this, Captain."

"Tony..." Steve let out a low, frustrated breath. "Don't start this. It's unnecessary." He turned his back on the man, now trying to focus on getting himself something to eat.

Tony, however, didn't stop. "But you know that I'm making a point. What would the public say if they knew their beloved hero made such big mistakes?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask yourself? You ought to know." _Shit. Shit, shit!_ That wasn't supposed to come out. Steve mentally cursed himself and bit his lip, continuing to the kitchen counter. Seeing the two banter, Bruce must have slipped out. Thanks for the backup, Banner...

"Wow," Tony said, chuckling. "Whaddya know. Steve Rogers can make good comebacks."

Tony didn't want to fight with Steve. He really didn't. But he found, crazy as it sounds, that it helped his nerves. Something was pressing inside his mind; a memory again. A long one maybe. He couldn't let Steve get suspicious, so he stood up quickly and tried to get to the door, at least...his brain didn't follow his wishes and white took over his vision.

_There was a smell of smoke, a burning sensation, and someone was dragging him on a hard ground. That someone was speaking, but he couldn't understand. It was garbled and broken. He could only make out "Tony" and "stay awake". He must not have been able to, because the next thing he saw was Steve, dirty and weary, looking down at him._

_"Stark, you back with me?"_

_It was dark and a small fire was next him, making his cold fingers tingle with the warmth. He blinked and tried to answer, "'M fine..." but it was so slurred he doubted Steve could understand. "Wha...?"_

_"We crashed." Now that Tony could see better, he noticed a side of the captain's face was caked with dried and new blood. He frowned._

_"You 'kay?"_

_He looked surprised that he asked. "Yeah, I'm good."_

_"Dun believe that."_

_"Tony Stark concerned for anyone other than himself? You must've hit your head hard." Steve retorted, gingerly probing his own head._

_"Shuddup, Cap...sicle." Tony snapped drowsily. "Lemme say something. I...I wanna say sorry..."_

_"It can wait..."_

Steve had immediately spun around when he heard a thump. Tony was sprawled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, yet his eyes were glazed and his mouth was open slightly. "Tony!" he shouted, rushing over to him. He crouched down beside Tony, his gaze frantically scanning over his body to make sure he couldn't see any immediate injuries from the fall. "Tony? Tony!" He placed his hands on the other man's face, trying to catch his gaze. "Look at me, okay? Hey!"

Tony suddenly snapped back to reality, blinking rapidly. "What...?" he groaned before closing his eyes. "Fuuuck." His ribs were on fire and he didn't even protest as he felt Steve scooping him up, mumbling something in a worried tone.

Steve, with his heart in his throat, began carrying a very woozy Tony to their floor, but he gripped Steve's sleeve suddenly and shook his head. "What? Tony, you need to-"

"Couch," he said quietly. "It's comfy."

He looked down at him skeptically, but accepted as he went to main living room and placed him on the long couch. Tony sighed in relief and when Steve started to fuss over him he waved his hand off.

"I'm okay."

"You just collapsed in the middle of the kitchen!" Steve said, exasperated.

"I'm okay," the billionaire insisted as he waved a hand. "Really.." His expression, however, said another thing. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was pinching the bridge of his nose, sucking in deep breaths.

"Tony..." Steve crouched down by the couch. "Let me help you. What do you need?"

"I..." he needed to think. "I just want to be left alone."

He was sure Steve would protest, but instead he hovered for a second before backing away. His lips were pursed tightly and his hands were clenched at his sides.

"Um, actually, Steve...can...can you explain something to me?" Tony asked hesitantly, pushing down his pain. "What happened to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"For one, I'm working for Fury. What the actual fuck? I was planning to ditch him completely from my life. Two, I joined a superhero squad. Three, I built a damn tower for the heroes, and four, I'm married to Captain freaking America."

Steve frowned slightly. "When the opportunity arose for the Avengers to actually be assembled to stop Loki, you were reeled in." He gave a shrug. "But of course you wanted to do it. You're Tony Stark, Iron Man. Why wouldn't you? Then of course it was agreed it'd be beneficial for all of us to live together, and who better to design and create the tower for it than you." He paused there to just look at Tony, who was still staring up at him.

"You still haven't explained to me why I'm married to Captain freaking America."

When Steve spoke this time, his voice was nearly flat. "Because we fell in love. You proposed. I said yes." He glanced down to his wedding ring on his left hand for just a moment, before dropping his gaze to the floor.

Tony blinked a few times at that. "Right. Well."

He thought of the vision and how different Steve had acted. Authoritive, almost cold. Nothing compared to the Steve now. "We...we didn't get along very well back then, did we?"

Steve regarded him carefully. "No. We didn't."

Tony looked away then, and Steve knew he was done talking. "I'll leave you for a bit."

"No."

"What?" he started in surprise.

"Just...stay. We don't have to talk. Do your sketching thing or whatever." he said quietly, huddling in to the couch and draping a blanket over himself.

"You want me to stay?" Steve was bewildered still.

"Yes. God, how many times must I tell you?" Tony snapped, but it was gentle. Steve sat down in an recliner armchair across from him and he nodded, satisfied. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. "It can wait..." What had he said to Cap that he felt so important? He winced, knowing how his concussed states could make him very emotional and maybe even cause him to ramble. He hoped that wasn't the case, but nothing supported it. He found himself needing to know, and peeked one eye open to see Steve now completely zoned out in his sketching on a notebook. Good. Really, Tony? After spending days trying to get rid of the memories, you want to trigger one manually?

He eyed Steve for a moment as he continued to think, wondering how the hell he could actually trigger this memory. Most of the time they came randomly and knocked him for a loop, leaving him feeling woozy and wobbly on his feet. Groaning, he rubbed a hand over his eyes.

That caught Steve's attention and he glanced up, brow already furrowed. "Are you alright?" He'd thought that maybe Tony had somehow hurt himself even worse after his fall in the kitchen and he couldn't help but worry.

"Fine, fine," Tony muttered and waved a hand.

Steve watched him for a just a moment longer before he looked down to his sketch again. "Well, alright.." He bit back a sigh and returned to work. What he was currently drawing was something he had started as a gift for Tony before the accident, and even though he wasn't sure that he was going to give it to the other man now, he wanted to continue it. It was a sketch of the two of them on their wedding day. Both were dressed in their tuxedos and were grinning madly as they held out their left hands, seemingly showing off their new wedding rings. It was based off of a picture that Clint had taken when the archer had walked up with his camera, demanding they prove that they "finally had a ring on it." Steve absolutely loved the photo and even though Tony had never actually told him himself, he knew for a fact that the genius had kept a tiny copy of it in his wallet. He'd seen it a time or two when they'd been out somewhere. As he remembered it, a very small smile slid over his face and his eyes flickered to his left hand, where the ring still sat. He looked at it for a just a moment, until wondering about something. Did Tony still have his on now? He bit his lower lip and tried to sneak a look at Tony's left hand, but it was covered by the blanket. He made a mental note to himself to check later. He did notice that the area was shaking, like his hands were trembling. "Tony, your hand is shaking. Calm down."

Tony seemed to snap out of his thoughts. "Hmm?"

"Your hand, Tony. It shakes when your anxious, remember?"

"How-" Tony was about to ask, but he shook his head. "Never mind. I'm good now."

The shaking had stopped. Steve's known about Tony's PTSD causing hand tremors for a long while now. He watched as Tony took out his hand and felt a pang of hurt when he saw that the ring was absent. He swallowed thickly and went back to his drawing. He wanted to give the finished sketch to Tony when he had his memories again and things between them had soothed. He just hoped that Tony would admit he was remembering anything at all.

Tony was silent for a little while until he looked back towards Steve. "What're you drawing over there?" he asked.

Steve shrugged. "Nothing, really," he stated, as he didn't want to show him. Not now, anyways.

"I'm sure it's more than nothing." He pressed. He raised his eyebrows. "Hmm?"

Steve didn't look up from his drawing. "It's just something I started before...you know. I want to finish it soon."

"Oh." Tony knew that he didn't like people prying in on his own projects, so he didn't question it further, though he kept trying to peek over the drawing. Steve seemed to notice, because a hint of a smile was playing at his lips and he turned his position. Pouting, he went back to the dead-end task of trying to trigger a memory. Which was going just peachy. He should look around; maybe touch things he may have touched before? He didn't know. But he was already bored sitting here now that the wooziness had passed. "That was a fun rest. Now if you'll excuse me..."

Steve glanced up when he heard Tony. "Oh, alright," he said with a small nod, wondering if the man was going to go work in the lab or what and too tired to argue with him otherwise. "Just let me know if you need anything," he offered a small smile and then looked back to his drawing so he could continue his work.

"Right," the billionaire mumbled as he pushed himself up from the couch. He slowly stood up, groaning at his aching body, before trying to sneak another glance at whatever Steve was drawing.

He huffed slightly as Steve once again turned his position, blocking the view of his drawing and landing him a triumphant smile. The genius promised to remind himself to keep trying. Tony shuffled down to his lab, a little unsteady but otherwise all right. He breathed in the air of lab, closing his eyes. It smelled of motor charge and a hint of stale coffee. "Daddy's home." he announced, grinning slightly.

Dum-E "Dummy", one of Tony's first robots that he built back at MIT, chirped its delight and Jarvis greeted with an ever polite, "Welcome back, sir."

"Okay, we got some experimenting to do."

"As assured that your recovery is going well, should I even bother to ask if you plan to hazard your health yet again?" Jarvis intermingled, and Tony wrinkled his nose.

"Relax. It has something to do with my condition." Tony told the AI, and plopped down in his spinny chair next to his desk, which was cluttered still with things he hadn't re-figured out yet. He tossed it all to the floor, making Dummy make a groaning noise in annoyance, as it was his job to pick up scattered papers. "I'm going to get some information from the deep and dark abyss that's my brain."

"Sir, the effects of your remembering have previously caused ill effects on your heath," Jarvis stated just after Tony sent the papers scattering to the floor. "I am not sure it is advisable to-"

"Shut it," Tony muttered to his AI, scowling for a moment. Now. Should he go around touching stuff to make him remember? Should he look at pictures? Talk to Jarvis about his life?

Well, he was mostly looking for key points in what had led to his life from then till now. Looking through his notes from before he had left to see Pepper, he knew that his last memory had pinpointed to when he was working in his lab on an update for the brand new arc reactor. He remembered Pepper being horrified at his house's "remodeling" from his quickly put together accelerator that he had used to synthesize his new element that potentially saved his life. Huh. Now he had to find out exactly when the Avengers "assembled" during the Loki attack. What was a Loki anyway?

He knew of Bruce Banner already from the Hulk news stories. Natasha obviously helped him save his life in her own spying way. Clint he'd never even heard of. Thor he'd heard of in goddamn mythology! He had to ask Steve about that, meeting a Norse god. Or he could just try to remember...

Okay. First mission, Loki attack. He turned on his computer and asked Jarvis to pull up dates, info, and whatever details he had stored himself that he wouldn't know of anymore.

He was shocked at what he saw. New York was in complete disarray. Destroyed, totaled, smoking. Even his own formerly work in progress tower that must have been complete from construction was looking worse for the wear. Disappointingly it didn't help much.

Then he came across a video with a freeze frame of him hauling something. Pulling it up large in a hologram he pressed play.

" _Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, is currently making his way to the portal with what SEEMS to be a nuclear missile!_ " The video was poor quality, and he could hardly make out his suit, and he watched himself fly toward the portal before disappearing in the rumble of energy. Huh. Still the self-sacrificing bastard.

The portal began to close, and he was wondering how the hell he was going to pop out, but then he did and the opening it closed swiftly, turning to blue sky. He fell.

He snorted a laugh when the Hulk of all things caught him. The video shorted out. Well. Not very insightful. "Jarvis, where are most of the pictures in this building?"

"The gallery, mostly, sir, if you're looking for grand memories."

"Grand memories," Tony repeated. "Yeah, remembering myself saving the world is pretty grand, I think."

For a moment Tony stood there, rubbing his forehead, until his sighed. "Anything else you got, Jarvis? Videos, pictures, whatever from after this Loki attack?"

"There's this, sir," The AI replied as a photo was pulled onto the screen. It was a photo of the "Avengers" or whatever, all sitting around a table that was filled with food. They looked utterly exhausted, but somehow, they'd managed to smile for a photo. It seemed they were in a restaurant, though there was rubble strewn across the floor.

"What's this?"

"It was taken after the battle at what I believed you said was the "best shawarma joint" in the area. The group went out for a celebratory meal, at your suggestion, sir. It is in the gallery as well, by your request."

"Oh, right," Tony mumbled as he looked the picture over for a moment. He then waved a hand to dismiss it from the screen, a frown tugging at his face. His head was hurting a little more now and he didn't quite know how to take that. Perhaps it meant he was gonna remember something? "Wouldn't be lucky enough to do that when I actually wanted to," he muttered to himself.

He left the lab and ignored Jarvis's body scan.

"Sir, perhaps you should-"

"Jarvis!" Tony said, exasperated. "One hour. All I ask is for one hour without anyone worrying about me."

"I'm not sure that's possible with you, sir."

Annoyed or not, it made Tony smile. He let Jarvis direct him toward the gallery and when he walked in, the world "paradox" popped into his head. Dozens of pictures were littered on the walls, including a hundred more newspaper clippings with some areas circled, awards...taking Tony's knowledge of the Avenger's popularity to a whole new level. As he walked into the dark room, he noticed that Post-it notes had been stuck on to some of the pictures with comments. He recognized Clint's handwriting, though he wasn't sure how.

Larger pictures, framed and hung, were there. One was with the shawarma picture, a group picture (clearly SHIELD issued, if the neat and clean postures were anything to go by) with them in their "suit-ups". And a few others where they were being...erm...silly. It was weird. Some of the most different, strangest people in the whole fucking world being thrown together almost unwillingly and then becoming seemingly inseparable in such a short amount of time.

His head pounded again, but he waved it away. If he was going to become dead weight again, he needed to get as much information as he could.

"Okay..." He muttered as he made his way towards one wall. Here there seemed to be articles and pictures that dealt with the Loki invasion. He saw a few newspaper clippings here and there that were probably press releases to the public that explained the general operation of the Avengers. Who they were, what they did, why they did it, and how they started. He scanned over a little bit of that and then shook his head.

Damn. Did he seriously willingly work for Fury? That was something that still blew his mind and he let out a breath. "Probably brain washed me. Ha." He rolled his eyes and then moved on, to an area that had several post-it notes stuck to it. Huh. What was this all about?

He scrunched up his nose and read the first one. It was on top of a photo that had a picture of Clint and Natasha. Clint was sticking his tongue out and Natasha was straight faced as always but with a hint of a smile that played on her lips.

 _She loves me_. The first post-it read, and Tony recognized Clint's handwriting. He wasn't sure how, but he did.

 _He wishes I love him_. The feminine style writing says it all.

There was a few more with similar remarks, along with a picture of Thor eating a Pop-Tart and a note labeling this as: First Asgardian On Earth

There was more of Thor, too, and then with Steve playing with a phone with a very frustrated look on his face and a note he must've written that said: _Grandpa working on his 21 century knowledge._

That made him smile a bit. The pounding in his head ruined that. The pounding was making him dizzy, but he kept looking.

There was another of Clint, Steve, and Tony, with Steve seemingly covered in what looked like silly string. Once again he recognized Clint's scrawl on the post-it note beside it. _We got the Cap, ha. Funny how he was fascinated by the silly string._

Under that was a note that he somehow knew was Steve's. _Funny, Barton. I'm going to get you two back._

He smiled slightly at that with the wonder if Steve really did get them back. He moved on to the next photo. This one was of himself and Steve alone, the both of them grinning widely at the camera.

 _Aww, look at these lovebirds. Aren't they precious?_ was a note from Clint.

Under that he figured was Thor's. _I wish my comrades the best in their upcoming union. It will be a most joyous celebration!_

Tony blinked at that, wondering what this picture was from. Steve was blushing and had his arm wrapped around Tony, so it was clear they were a couple here, and from the looks of Thor's note, also engaged.

His eyes moved to the next note that he just knew was in Steve's handwriting. _Yes, Clint, we are precious and we know it._

Again, his head pounded and he sucked in a breath, closing his eyes for just a brief moment.

When he took another step, he very nearly lost his footing. His head was at a constant pound now, and it made him see black spots. Past the black spots were flashes, almost like a strobe light, except there were moving pictures that were clawing around his head. Keep it together, Tony thought to himself.

"Sir? Would you like me to inform-"

"No." Tony ground out. The last thing he needed was Steve to find him sprawled on the floor again. If he did, he'd never be able to get out of bed without him watching his every move. "No, Jarvis, don't..."

"Sir, I recommend-"

"No, Jarvis!" He snapped at the AI. He sucked in a few deep breaths and then rubbed his forehead, groaning quietly. "I'm fine..." Slowly, the pain was subsiding, but he kept a hand pressed to his eyes as images continued to flash across his mind.

Someone was calling his name, but it wasn't in the room. It was from his head. He swallowed thickly and tried to decide to keep pushing off the memories or just let them take him. He didn't want to do either, but its not like he had a choice. That wasn't all. He always had someone there to snap him out of it, to bring him back to reality. If he was alone, how long would he remain inside his head?

"Jarvis...if I do pass out..." he breathed deeply. "And I don't wake up in 5 minutes...get Clint, okay?"

"Of course, sir," Jarvis replied.

Tony didn't say anything else before his eyes slid shut again and he was no longer in the gallery, but lost in a fuzzy memory of some sort.

********

Clint was in the kitchen when his heard his name.

"Mr. Barton."

He nearly jumped out of his skin and the handful of potato chips that he'd just shoved into his face spewed out from his mouth a little bit. "What?!" He snapped. Jesus. One would think he'd be used to this AI around here, but it did still freak him out when it would speak directly to him sometimes.

"I apologize for the interruption, but Master Stark requires your assistance in the gallery."

Clint swallowed the rest of his chips and sighed. He'd /just/ woken up from a much needed sleep. "What? Why does Tony need my help?"

"Mr. Stark collapsed and informed me to call you if he did not wake within 5 minutes." The AI replied.

"What?!" Clint exclaimed, jumping up. "Get Bruce, Jarvis!"

"I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Stark directly told me only you. If its a consolation, his vitals are erratic but stable."

Clint swore under his breath and ran to the gallery. He opened the door and saw Tony curled into himself and shuddering. "What the hell...Tony!"

Shit.

That's what kept repeating to himself as the memory grew intense. He was flying in the suit, above the ruins of New York. _Loki attack/ his mind registered._

_He was holding something. Knowing how this story goes, it was the nuke. He could only watch as he came across the portal._

_"That's a one way trip," Steve's voice echoed through the speakers._

_And then he was in space, he was trying to call Pepper, and then he saw flames as the nuke he was holding blew up a...spaceship._

_He realized he couldn't breathe. He wasn't breathing. He opened his mouth to suck in air, but there wasn't any. So his eyes closed and he felt himself falling._

_I died. How did I come back?_

The next thing he saw was himself on the ground. A few of the others surrounded him, staring, until he suddenly jolted awake just as the Hulk screamed in his face. Then he was rambling something about... what was that, someone kissing him? Shawarma? Everything was getting fuzzy now and hard to decipher...

_Ow... ow..._

"Tony!" Clint dropped to his knees beside the billionaire, eyes wide as he shook him. "Come on, man, wake up or something!" He wasn't quite sure what to do so he leaned back and glanced around. "Jarvis, what the fuck am I supposed to do? I dunno how to help with whatever this is!"

"As recorded in my systems, Mr. Stark is reliving an intense memory. Over the past few days upon his reported accident, there's been-"

Clint cut off the AI as Tony continued to roll around, his breathing labored. "Just tell me how to snap him out of it!"

"No specific treatment is available. However, physical contact and talking to him has worked best." Jarvis reported.

Clint rolled Tony over and placed his hands on his arms to keep him from thrashing. "Okay, buddy, you better help me out here. Wake up!"

Tony wasn't falling anymore. He was just floating. It was dark and there was no more memories to look at. He panicked; there was no way out. He needed to get out. Out, out, OUT!

_"Come on, buddy, come back..."_

That sounded like Clint. Had Jarvis gotten him? That meant he'd been out for over 5 minutes. Great.

He suddenly found the strength to open his eyes and he inhaled sharply, Clint's face above him.

"What the fuck, Tony? What was that?!"

He blinked a few times as he stared up at the other man. "Uh..." he mumbled. Christ, his head was still pounding and he felt dizzy. Very dizzy.

"Tony?"

Finally, he managed to sit up, very, very slowly. "What's it look like?" he snapped, a hand covering his eyes.

Clint sighed sharply. "No need to bite my head off, Stark. Just trying to help you."

Tony scrambled to his feet, head throbbing furiously. He shrugged off Clint's supporting hand. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." Clint gripped his arm. "Tony, stop this!"

"What? I fell."

Clint laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, right."

Tony sighed. "Really, Clint. I'm okay now."

"Then why are you shaking like that?" Clint countered, his eyebrows raised as he looked Tony over. "Hmm?"

Tony glanced down to see that he was indeed trembling. Oh. "I'm fine," he insisted and shook his head, before heading for the door. "Now I'm just gonna-"

"No," Suddenly Clint was reaching out to stop the other man. "Talk to me, Tony."

"Look, you don't-"

"Tony!" Clint snapped, shaking his head. "You're remembering, aren't you? That little episode was a flashback or whatever, huh?"

Tony stared for a moment, his brow furrowed as if debating on if he should really tell Clint or not. Barton wasn't exactly known for keeping his mouth shut about things. Actually, if his messed up memories didn't fail him, Clint had ratted him out on a more times to count.

Clint sighed and gripped Tony's shoulder. "Just...please."

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, and slumped against the wall , sliding to the floor, defeated. "Yeah. I'm remembering things."

Clint inhaled sharply and sat on the floor next to Tony. "How much?"

He shrugged. "Not much, really. Just flashes usually, but sometimes I remember bigger things, longer things and that happens."

"What did you just remember, then?" Clint asked.

"The end of the Loki attack, when I flew the nuke into the portal." Tony was relieved to finally talk about it. Now he could get details.

Clint gave a small nod at that. "Right, then you fell back to earth and woke up, then everyone said yay and we went for shawarma," he stated.

"Right, that."

"But you've been remembering other stuff, haven't you? Things about…" Clint paused, before letting out a small sigh, "well, things about you and Steve?" His eyebrows rose in question.

Tony didn't look at him. "I remember a lot about Steve."

"...And?"

"And I don't know. I don't know!" he exclaimed. "I feel like I should be loving him or...something. He's a good guy, I can see why I fell for him, but...its different now. He told me we didn't get along before a mission or whatever. Actually, correction. I watched some of the mission in my head so that's how I know... So I don't know if I should hate him, or start over, or just leave this whole mess entirely."

Clint said sternly, "I'll make damn sure you don't leave. If you do, I'll find you."

The billionaire studied him for a second, blinking, before smiling a little. "Thanks, I guess."

Clint let Tony fall into silence, and he clenched his fists. Now what? Tell Steve? Bruce? He figured someone other than him should know, because goddammit this was not his kind of thing. He was about as skillful with people as Fury, and that was saying something because Fury is just not a people person. "Are you-"

"No, no one else can know."

"They pretty much already know, Tony!"

"Look, if they know about how these memories are affecting me, with the episodes and the fucking feelings, which by the way I'm not so sure about, they will never give me some space. Steve will have Bruce test me, ask me questions, and I really don't want to do that. I need to figure this out on my own. C'mon, Clint, help me. Lead them on. Stall them, whatever you have to do to keep them completely oblivious about the details." Tony pleaded. Clint regarded Tony carefully.

"Do you promise to make sure I'm around at least when you have the damn seizures?"

"Its not a seizure, Barton, its-"

"Stop talking. I won't understand anyway."

"See, this is why I like you."

"Of course you like me. It's because I'm fucking awesome."

"Funny, I thought you were fucking Natasha."

Clint paused, tilting his head for a moment as he smirked. "Yeah, well," he said. That was just like the old Tony- well, the before Tony- to make a joke like that. It was kind of weird. Refreshing, though.

"I'm serious, though," Tony went on to say after a moment. "Don't tell anyone else. Mkay?"

Jesus, this was going to be hard. Clint Barton didn't keep secrets. Sure, maybe classified info he could keep his mouth shut about (for the most part, anyway), but keeping quiet when it came to secrets amongst the team just was not his forte. "Fine…" he finally sighed. "I'll try my best. But at least let me help you when you have those little episodes."

To that, Tony nodded. "Alright. I'll have Jarvis tell you whenever it happens."

"Good."

Clint stood up and offered a hand to Tony, who accepted it and hauled himself up unsteadily. He swayed, and Clint kept a hand on his shoulder. "You look like shit. What's wrong?"

"Dizzy."

"That happen every time?"

"Yeah," Tony said breathlessly, and he began walking forward from the gallery. "I should work in my lab, work up some data..."

"Or sleep," Clint suggested, crossing his arms.

"Don't start nagging me too, Barton," Tony rolled his eyes as he continued out of the gallery.

"I'm just saying that after an episode like that, rest would be good. Especially if you're dizzy," Clint followed him out, his arms still crossed over his chest. He'd expected for Tony to be difficult like this, but it didn't make it any less annoying. "Come on."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

Clint followed Tony out of the gallery, still bantering. Thor was looking at them strangely.

"Friend Barton and Stark?"

"Hey big guy," Tony greeted. "Haven't seen you in a while. How goes it?"

Thor smiled widely, and clapped a hand on Tony's shoulder. "Quite well, if you don't include our last mission."

"Oh...yeah. The nuclear mix-up." Tony nodded. "Talk to Fury about it?"

"Indeed. He is not happy. With Friend Rogers or you." Thor informed him. "Friend Stark-"

"Me? Why me?"

"Your injury is merely a misfortune on his part. Not too worry. Though you may want to avoid Lady Natasha, for she's upset about your antics of your consumption of alcohol and medicine. Also-"

"Well. I'm fucked."

"Friend Stark, do you still have Pop-Tarts here?" Thor cut in. When Tony just looked at him in confusion, Thor matched his expression before it dawned on him. "Your memory! I apologize."

"Thor likes Pop-Tarts," Clint told Tony, and then focused on Thor. "Same place as always, bud."

"Thank you. This will be a most glorious snack!" Thor boomed before he walked away, heading to find the Pop-Tarts.

Tony just shook his head slightly. God who likes Pop-Tarts... he thought in bewilderment and then turned around himself. "Well I'm gonna head to the-"

"-Bedroom," Clint cut in as he placed a hand on Tony's shoulder. He then turned the man around to steer him down the hallway. "Because right now you need to sleep. Got it?"

He tried to careen himself out of Clint's path but he didn't relent. He scowled. "Hey, c'mon. I'm not tired, I've been sleeping a lot, you know!"

"I don't care." Clint retorted as he pushed him inside Steve and Tony's floor. "Sleep or I will make you."

Tony released himself from Clint and smoothed his shirt. "Fine, fine! God, you're annoying. Now leave."

Clint scoffed and waved a hand. "See you."

"Yeah.." Tony muttered, "See you."

Clint paused to look back at Tony, his expression stern. "You'd better really sleep. 'Cuz if you don't and you try to go work in the lab, Jarvis is gonna tell me. Right, Jarvis?"

"Precisely, Mr. Barton," the AI chirped.

A satisfied smirk spread across his lips. "Now go rest, sleeping beauty," he said before he walked away, hearing the billionaire mutter something of Jarvis being an unfaithful piece of tech.


	11. Anniversary (Of the Day I Started Loving You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Steve and Tony's 2nd anniversary since they began dating. It doesn't go as Steve planned before everything went to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! C: Thanks for the responses, they've been great! Anyone interested in doing some fanart for this fic? I've had some people ask if there are some or will be, and honestly I haven't really considered it. So, if you're interested, then do it on your own time and send me it if you're comfortable with me sharing it on here.

1 week later:

A whole week passed after that, without one attack from Tony's memories, for which he was grateful. He was always on the red alert, but it gave him the chance for his ribs to mend. As it was, they were much less painful than they were. Clint seemed especially glad for the lack of episodes, because he was still working on a poor list of excuses to get the team off of Tony's back. But then again, the archer wasn't sure if it was such a good idea anymore, because Tony was speaking to Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Thor and even him less and less as the days passed. He spent more time in the lab than anything, only coming out when Steve convinced him to eat meals with them. Clint knew it was bugging Steve. A lot.

Because now that things had settled down, he wasn't even close to being Tony's husband again. Clint saw how he lingered more at pictures that he passed, how he dazed off more and sometimes even he could hear Steve wake up at 3 in the morning, go into the kitchen and make some coffee, and just sit there, before going back to bed (they'd placed him in the guest room now, since the couch wasn't exactly a good long-term bedding). At one point he saw Steve cry as he passed the hallway. He didn't do well with helping people with their feelings, especially crying, 'cause Jesus Christ that was his worst nightmare. He did, however, mention it to Natasha, and whatever she said must have helped because Steve had been in a bit higher spirits when he'd seen him at dinner.

Clint, Natasha, and Steve were in the living room on a Friday morning, with Clint sprawled on the couch with his foot propped on Natasha's knee, much to her distaste. He'd complained of a sore ankle from training, quite pathetically, yet Natasha didn't remove it. Steve was drawing silently from the love seat as the TV played a Bruce Lee movie.

"Mr. Barton?"

Jarvis's voice interrupted Clint's contentment. Distractedly, his eyes flickered to the ceiling before falling to the screen again. "Yeah?"

"Mr. Stark needs your assistance with a...project, if you will..."

Clint froze, and Natasha and Steve looked at him strangely. "Oh, okay uh...sure, be right there," he said smoothly, but he jumped to his feet in a flash and tried to keep a calm face.

"What's the deal, Clint?" Natasha asked, "never seen you so anxious to help Stark with a science project."

"Oh, well, you know how he gets if you keep him waiting. All cranky and shit.." Clint sort of laughed, avoiding Natasha's gaze and then darted away before she had a chance to ask any more questions. Jesus, he couldn't handle lying to someone like Nat… she could read him like a book.

Steve watched as Clint ran away and he frowned slightly, turning towards Natasha. "That was strange," he murmured.

She nodded in agreement like that, almost as if she was thinking of following after Clint. However, she stayed put, though the suspicious look on her face didn't disappear. "Very strange."

Clint hurried down to the lab, punching in the access code that Tony had given him. Normally, he entered in wrong the first few tries, but he thankfully got it right this time and the door slid open. "Tony?" he called as he skidded into the lab, his eyes wide. "Are you-" Oh, there he was. "Tony?" The genius was huddled on the floor, his eyes glazed over as he trembled and tried to curl in on himself. He hurried over and dropped to his side, grasping his shoulder. "Hey man, come on."

********

Tony hadn't seen this one coming. He'd been working on improvements for the suit, since he'd be cleared for flight in the upcoming weeks, hopefully by the next Monday. He'd felt a headache, but he shrugged it off as overwork and had taken some Advil. Yet the next thing he knew he was on the floor, dropping his tool and being swept up in the familiarizing darkness.

_He didn't panic this time, because he knew Jarvis would get Clint after a few minutes, he'd wake up and everything would be fine. Except this time the memory started with a sickening CRACK and he was looking around through the visors of his suit and he realized that he was flying over a small town that was smoking in some places. It was very hot. And giant robots were littered across the roads, some on top of houses. He squinted and saw a dirty and sweaty Steve being hauled to his feet from the ground by Thor, and he watched and reveled in the feeling of moving down before he was on the ground and running towards Steve._

_"Are you fucking crazy, Rogers?" Tony growled. "Trying to give me a damn heart attack?!"_

_Deja vu. Steve was looking at him with an apologetic smile. "I'm okay, Tony, thanks for asking."_

_Tony's helmet shot up, and he had suddenly wrapped his arms around Steve tightly. With the suit on, he was at Steve's height and the bulk prevented almost any skin contact, but he buried his face into his shoulder and breathed in his scent. "Don't ever do something like that again."_

_"What, put myself in the line of fire of a giant robot? Sure thing." Steve's voice was soft, and the hint of sarcasm made Tony chuckle._

_"You sound like me."_

_"I know,"_

_and Tony was leaning in for a kiss, and..._

" _Wake up!"_

His eyes snapped open and he was in the lab, Clint beside him. "Hey," he croaked.

Clint snorted. "Hi."

"Need a hand?"

He focused on Barton's outstretched arm and then nodded slowly, accepting the help. Sitting up made his head spin a bit and he groaned, his eyes slipping closed again as he tried to let it pass. He definitely hadn't missed this feeling. "Fuck.."

"You okay?" Clint's brow furrowed as he asked. He knew Tony was probably feeling pretty shitty, because he remembered him mentioning it happened when he had one of these little episodes, but he still figured that he'd ask anyways. "Need me to do something?"

"No... no, I'm fine."

Steve stared down at the sketch in his hands for a moment, his brow furrowed as he looked it over with a critical eye. It was finished now, but for some reason he couldn't decide what to do with it. Should he give it to Tony? Today was the day he'd been waiting for, after all. Or would it be better for him to wait and give it to Tony when he regained his memory?

_If he regains his memory..._ A little voice said, causing him to sigh. "Hey, Natasha? Can I ask you something?"

Natasha lifted her eyes from the television to Steve, asking Jarvis to mute it. "Sure, go ahead."

He handed her the sketch. She took it carefully and studied it, her lips quirking slightly. "I know I've seen this..."

Steve smiled. "Its the photo Tony and I liked the most out of all the rest of the wedding photos. I've been working on it for months. And I wanted to give it Tony today for our second anniversary."

It dawned on Natasha. "Steve..."

Steve took the drawing back and hugged it to himself. "Do you think I still should give it to him? Memory or not."

Natasha looked at the man sadly. Steve had really been struggling to keep his cool the last few days, what with Tony disappearing all the time and not talking to anyone much. She thought that it was occurring to Steve that he was losing Tony forever, and she had confronted him about it a few days ago; he'd replied with a soft _"I'm not giving up on him yet. I promised, and so did he."_ She hadn't pressed on. "I think you should."

"You want to tell me that this might just Tony from now on, don't you?" It wasn't an accusation, a very light question.

Natasha sighed. "Something like that. But what do I know? Nothing's predictable with Tony. If anyone could miraculously wake up and get their memory back, it'd be him."

Steve didn't get to answer as Tony entered the living room. He looked pale and he was swaying a little as he walked. "Are you okay, Tony?"

"Yup," he said heading to the mini-kitchen where there was a coffee maker probably calling the billionaire over. "I'm fine. What's up?"

Steve hugged the drawing a little closer to himself, frowning as he watched Tony. He didn't necessarily think he looked fine, but he wasn't going to push it. It would just make Tony angry and fighting with the man was the last thing he wanted, especially today. "Well..." He shifted on the love seat. "Nothing really." His thoughts went to the drawing in his hand and he wondered how he should go about giving this to Tony. Should he just walk up and hand it to him? Say something? He imagined handing the drawing over and saying, _'Hey, I know you're clueless about what today is, but happy anniversary anyways!'_ wouldn't be the smoothest thing to do. But what could he do?

Tony was now clutching a cup of coffee in his hands, seemingly a little better now that he had his favorite beverage in his hands. He wandered over to where Steve and Natasha were sitting to sit down as well, though he sat down beside Natasha instead of his husband. "So, nothing's up?"

Natasha nodded to Steve to encourage him to go on, and Steve took a breath and began, "You probably don't know this, but today's our second anniversary; and-"

"Of being married?" Tony raised an eyebrow.

"No, since we...got together. We already celebrated our first wedding anniversary a few weeks before your accident." Steve explained. "You were planning it. But you never told me what, and you don't even know me, I'm improvising."

He offered the drawing to Tony and the billionaire studied it with amazement in his eyes. "Steve...this is really good."

Steve smiled softly. "Happy Anniversary, Tony."

Tony swallowed a lump in his throat at the sadness that leeched into Steve's voice. The drawing was truly impressive; he and Steve's features were drawn near perfectly with light and dark shading that made it incredibly 3D. He knew that something about the drawing was more significant than just something that popped into Steve's head as an idea. He frowned. What was so familiar about it?

"Tony?"

"Looks familiar," he slipped out, and cursed mentally.

"You remember the picture?" Steve asked hopefully.

He glanced up to Steve again and saw the look in his eyes. He looked hopeful, but also like he was trying not to let it show. Perhaps so he didn't seem so disappointed if Tony didn't give the response he was looking for. "It just looks familiar," he finally said, his eyes flicking to the drawing once more.

Steve swallowed. Of course Tony didn't really remember the picture. That would just be too good to be true, wouldn't it? "Um," he let out a soft sigh. "it's one of our favorite pictures from our wedding. I know you always liked it..." he trailed off and smiled very slightly before he continued again. "We were out to eat a few weeks after we got married and you pulled your wallet out to find your credit card, I think, and when you did a small print of the photo fell out. You didn't even realize it until I pointed it out, then you shrugged and said, 'You should be proud, Steve, you've turned me into one of those sappy husbands who keeps pictures in his wallet. But can you blame me? Just wanted to have this little reminder of the happiest day of my life in my back pocket. That way, when I'm having a shitty day, I can just look at it and-" he suddenly stopped when he realized Tony was staring at him with this odd expression, and he blushed. "Oh. Um. Sorry," he mumbled and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's okay," Tony shook his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he thought about that. It felt so... familiar, and, shit, now his head was starting to hurt. He needed to get out of this room, now, before he had one of his little episodes right in front of Steve. "Well thanks for the drawing, Steve. It's great." He said quickly before he was suddenly hurrying out of the room, not glancing back to see the hurt expression on the other man's face.

"Wait, Tony-" Why was he leaving? Steve took a few steps after him, an arm outstretched. Had he said too much? Should he had not told that story? He stopped and let his arms drop to his sides, and his shoulders slumped in disappointment as his husband continued to hurry off. "Great," he said miserably as he plopped down on the love seat again, curling in on himself. "Guess it was stupid of me to think that he might want to.. to..." he blinked furiously, refusing to cry right now.

Natasha sighed softly. "You just wanted to spend time with him, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Just... I mean, we didn't have to do anything. Maybe watch a movie. I just wanted to see him today. You know? Even if we can't celebrate our anniversary as husbands, I just thought we could do something as maybe friends. But he doesn't even see me as that, does he?"

"Steve..."

"Well he doesn't." He mumbled. "I can't even be friends with my own husband."

******

Tony was holding his head gingerly as he exited the room, and he saw out of the corner of his eye Bruce and Clint watching him. Bruce stepped forward to Tony, but Tony shook his head at the doctor as he rose his head a little. "Fine, just a bad headache."

"Are you getting headaches a lot?" Bruce asked, concerned.

"Tiny ones," Tony told the man assuredly. "I'll be okay with some Advil."

While Bruce seemed to be fairly convinced, Clint did not. He stood perfectly straight, his face in a tight line, like he was just waiting for Tony to go down. Tony gave him a nod and headed to his lab, Clint following him with an excuse to Bruce, "He needs help with one of his robots,"

It was a bad excuse, but it would have to do. Clint helped him down the stairs to Tony's annoyance, but the headache lingered so he kept his attention on putting one foot in front of the other.

*******

Steve was quiet, just settled back onto the couch and let Natasha make comforting circles on his back. He leaned into the touch because he hadn't been comforted by touch for what felt like a long time. "Do you think Tony's given up?"

"No, I think he doesn't realize that what he's doing is just making things worse."

Steve thought about that. Usually when Tony was insisting to be alone and to do things on his own, which he still did occasionally before his memory loss, he did seem to lose track of inhibitions. However, that didn't make a good excuse. "You guys say I should give him time and space but its not working. Nothing's working."

"And how do we know?" Natasha prodded. "We already agreed that Tony was remembering some things. He could be remembering a lot more than we know. Maybe he's working on a plan, or some kind of device that will..."

"Wishful thinking," Steve mumbled.

"That's what you need right now, don't you think? Something to hold on to."

Steve let out a frustrated sigh. "Yeah..." He mumbled, shaking his head. "It's just really hard to stay positive about this, you know? I just can't... This isn't something that anyone is ever prepared for." He closed his eyes and leaned back, pressing his hands to his face. "I just want my husband."

"I know, but you-"

"You don't know," he said quietly, shaking his head.

"Steve-"

"Natasha, my husband hardly speaks to me anymore. I haven't been able to... to get so much as a hug from my _husband_ in weeks. It's our freaking anniversary and he can't even stay in the same room as me for five minutes. I give him the drawing and he runs away. Don't give me this stay positive stuff right now because I honestly can't act like that for the moment."

******

When they finally made it down the stairs, Clint decided to speak. "Alright?" He nodded slightly. "Tony?"

"I'm fine."

"But you-"

"I said I was fine."

Tony got lucky this time. Once he reached his lab, the headache passed and he sat heavily into his chair. "Its gone. No episode."

Clint breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

Tony sat rubbing his temples before he shot up. "Shit! I just left Steve!"

"What?"

"He told me about how today is our 2nd anniversary since we started dating and he gave me a drawing of us that he's been working on for months and I have the photo in my damn wallet too I guess and I ran out because I thought I was going to-" he rambled, pacing in a circle.

"Whoa, Tony, slow down." Clint said, not really comprehending all of what Tony was saying. "Its your anniversary?"

"Since we got together, yeah."

"Well, if you were planning your anniversary, what would you do?"

"I don't know, take her.../him/ out to dinner?" Tony said exasperatedly.

"Why don't you just bring him his favorite dinner instead? Then he'll know that you really took an effort." Clint suggested.

Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What's his favorite dinner, then? I wouldn't know. Anymore."

Clint thought about it for a second before smiling a bit slyly. "Fondue."

Clint shrugged as he sat down on one of the nearby stools. Upon realizing that it rolled, he pushed himself away from the table and skidded across the room. "Yep, guess so," he smiled.

Tony moved to sit down as well and he sighed again. "So I have to bring the food to him. Great," he muttered.

"Hey, you're the one who just walked away like an asshole after Steve gave you a present he'd been working on for months. Stop complaining."

"I thought I was going to drop the floor and become a drooling mess. _Excuse me_ if I didn't want to freak Steve out." Tony said defensively, walking over to Dummy and patted his head, and the robot chirped happily and nudged Tony's stomach.

"Pretty sure he'd be a lot less freaked if you told him what's going on with you." Clint shot back. "And he'd understand why you ran off if he knew."

Tony grumbled something and began walking throughout the lab, gathering a few utensils and scrap parts that were littered across the various tables, floor, and even a lone piece that was on top of the fridge. His forehead was scrunched up in concentration as he began furiously placing the scraps on the table in what he felt was the right place and then pulled up a manipulative screen and started scanning and assembling. "Maybe I should build Steve a little robot."

Clint's jaw dropped, aghast at Tony's abrupt change of subject. "Tony!"

"What? I'm bored," Tony complained, poking at a circuit board.

"You're avoiding the problem."

"What problem?" He asked innocently.

"You know what problem!" Clint glared at him. "We let it be for a while, we gave you some space. But they're getting impatient, Tony, and they know you're hiding something about your memory. Pretty soon, they're also going to know _I_ know something, and Natasha will hurt me until she knows about it too."

"Oh, come on. You can handle Natasha."

"Um, no. She's scary," Clint muttered as he watched Tony scowl at something on the screen. "And I'm running out of excuses trying to cover your ass. It's exhausting!"

Tony huffed. "So would Steve like a robot or not? Because I think-"

"NO!" Clint snapped as he abruptly stood up. "He wouldn't like a fucking robot! I'm sure he would love it if his husband would just let him actually /help/ so he wouldn't feel so damn sad and helpless all the time!"

"He doesn't feel-"

"Yes he does, Tony."

Tony paused in his tinkering of the robot, with his back still turned on Clint. "I can't do anything to help him."

"There's a lot of things you could do, actually. You could tell him about your memory-"

"And what then?" Tony suddenly yelled, whipping around. "He's going to have Bruce poke and prod me until everything comes flooding in! I did my research, and Jarvis figured out that if the..." he struggled for a description, "wall in my head breaks, the effects could be bad."

"What kind of bad?" Clint pestered.

"Not being able to wake up from a episode bad," Tony told him, walking past him and taking a water out of the fridge. In all honesty, it was actually half true. Jarvis was making estimated guesses based on a hypothesis. "And mind you, I want to wake up."

"You're going to push everyone away because you're scared we'regoing to screw up? That's ridiculous."

Tony took a big swig of water. He really did want to tell everyone, especially Steve. It didn't occur to him until he'd woken up from his earlier memory trigger, but it had been lingering on his mind persistently. How easy it would be to just let it off his chest, tell Steve what was happening, and maybe Steve would understand and stop pushing him, letting him sort out his emotions and recover slowly.

Or maybe Steve would do the exact opposite. No, he's not like that, he told himself firmly. But what did he know? He debated giving Steve his fondue (why in the hell melted cheese appealed to Steve was beyond him) and telling him. That could help Steve, right? He wouldn't feel so bad, right? It wasn't fair to do this, he had to do something to help -

"You don't trust us, do you?" Clint accused, clearly have been pushed to the brink from stress. Did he? He wasn't sure. Trust didn't come easily to him anymore, not since the shebang with Obediah. But the more he thought about it, if he had jumped off a building and Steve, or any of the Avengers was tasked in saving him from his death, there was no doubt they'd do anything in their power to save him. That could either be the key to helping Tony through this or making it all the worse.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Clint muttered to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. "You're probably not even listening to a word I'm saying to you, which is just awesome…" he let out a frustrated sigh and then looked at Tony again with an expression to let the inventor know that he was completely serious. "Look. Just… think about telling Steve that you're remembering stuff, okay? Because I cannot keep this secret for much longer. I'm no good with this sort of shit," he started for the door like he was going to leave, but abruptly stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Also, I was serious about the robot thing. Steve wouldn't like that. Bring him food, mkay? The guy likes to eat." With that, he left, sick of spouting off stuff to Tony, who he was pretty sure didn't give a crap about what he was saying. Whatever. Now he needed to find a way to avoid Natasha and that death glare she gave him when she knew he was hiding something.

Groaning, Tony rubbed a hand over his face and plopped down in his chair. "Yeah. Great." he mumbled and then looked at one of his screens for a moment, his mind running with several different things at once. Steve. Fondue. Anniversary. Clint. The memories. All this shit was just... annoying. "Jarvis," he finally said in a whiny tone, not caring that the AI would probably sass him for it (and how an AI could be so sassy he never knew), "what the hell do I do now?"

"Might I suggest finding a place for fondue, sir?"

Tony groaned. "Of course you'd say that. Okay, take a look. I'm gonna..." he scowled, "I don't have anything to do."

No one, not even Jarvis, answered him. He sighed heavily and span around his his chair, blinking up at the ceiling. His brain was, as always, on high alert and running way too many things at once. At least he was alone. Finally. No one seemed to be able to leave him alone for 5 minutes. His eyes had just slipped close in a sleepy daze when he heard an access code being punched in through the door. "No, please let it have been my imagination..."

"Stark, I need to ask you about Clint." Natasha's voice rang out.

"So close..." he muttered to himself before opening his eyes and turning his head to Natasha's direction. "What about Clint?"

"Don't you agree that he's been acting...edgy the past week or so?"

Tony pretended to think about it and then shook his head. "Nope, nothing strange."

"Usually he's most jumpy when someone asks about you," the spy continued, "so what do you think is going on?"

He looked at her for a moment and shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe he's just freaked out by this whole... accident thing," he muttered.

Natasha's eyes narrowed as he studied Tony carefully. "It's almost like he's trying to keep a secret from the rest of the team," she pressed.

"Okay? Well from what I've gathered, Clint would be shitty at keeping a secret. And it's not like I have anything to tell him anyways, if you're trying to imply that this secret is from me," he turned around in his chair to pick up a screwdriver. He messed with it for a moment, just turning it over in his hands.

"Hmm," Natasha mused, not soothed. She walked over to him, her eyes watching his every breath, every twitch. Christ, Tony thought, I take it back, Clint, buddy. She is scary as fuck. "What's going on with you?"

"Uh...nothing," Tony pretended to look confused. "Why, do I have something on my face?"

She frowned. "You're pale, there's bags under your eyes, and your heart beat just accelerated, which means you just lied to me."

"How can you possibly know that?" Tony said, bewildered. "You know what, don't answer. Hey, can you ask Bruce when I can get in my suit again? I miss it. God, I'm deprived. I can't take the waiting anymore. My ribs are almost healed and I have a Velcro cast for my wrist and I can use it fine, anyway, and since you nosy group want me to get back into my...your Tony's usual routine it's a good start..."

She still hadn't taken her eyes off him. "Ask him yourself. He's upstairs."

"I'm busy," he whined.

"Come join us for lunch, Tony. We have Chinese take-out." Her voice was flat, but softer.

"Mm...nope."

"Tony..."

"Natasha, I said no. Besides, I have things to do. I have something I need to do." he said firmly. "For Steve."

"Like what?" she asked slowly.

"It's a surprise. I need you to let me leave the Tower in about 5 hours," and at Natasha's outraged expression, "Just for one hour, I swear!"

"The last time you left alone, you nearly killed yourself!" she snapped. "And since you won't talk to us, we don't know what's going on in your eccentric head. We trusted you, Tony, remember?"

"No, you didn't," he scowled. "Jarvis told me that you'd overridden my commands to give you updates on how I was doing when you left for the mission! Vitals, medical scans while I was asleep, and who knows what else?!"

"We were worried about you. You're recovering from a brain injury, Tony, in case you didn't remember." Despite her matter-of-fact answer, Natasha clearly didn't know that Tony knew about their secret eye. Oh, he'd known. He'd known the very second they walked out the door. Almost immediately, before his leaving to see Pepper, he'd got rid of it all. It hadn't bugged him all that much. Now it did for some reason. Lack of sleep?

"Yeah? Well there's a line you don't cross with me, the old Tony. I don't need anyone." he spat, anger flaring. "So, I am going to try make it up to Steve because I feel bad about what he's going through...because of me. But I am not your Tony Stark, got it?"

"Maybe you should start realizing that you do need people, Tony. Isolating yourself isn't going to do anything," Natasha shook her head and then headed for the door, her jaw clenched in annoyance. "And Tony? If you do leave the house, don't cause a mess. It'll give Steve a heart attack and I'm sure that's the last thing he needs on today of all days."

He merely scowled as she walked away, and when the door slid shut he let out a noise of frustration. "I don't need anyone," he muttered again, shaking his head. What did she know? Nothing! Who did she think she was trying to come in here and bitch at him?

"Sir," Jarvis chimed in. "I have located restaurants that provide fondue, if you would like to take a look."

"Thanks, Jarvis. Pull 'em up." Tony told the AI, and groaned tiredly, "What am I supposed to do until dinner now?"

His eyes scanned over the pile of tools that he'd assembled for the robot. Actually, he hadn't really intended to build one. His mind was too distracted. Then again, imagining the look on Steve's face at a little robot following him around made Tony store it into the back of his mind. "Next time, baby."

A few hours later from when Clint and then Natasha not too long after came storming up from Tony's lab, making short remarks of how Tony was being difficult and it was in their best interest to steer clear for now. Although Steve looked crestfallen, as he did often lately, he went back to sketching in his notebook. He seemed to be a little lost at what to do draw with his anniversary present finished.

With Thor settled on the couch and absently handing off hints to a bemused Natasha (whom just wanted to watch TV) that having a cat in the Avenger tower would be "an excellent addition to our family", Clint perched on a table in the kitchen table as he read a book, and Bruce working on a written experiment that he wanted to put to the real test soon...it was an easy going afternoon for the group. The comfort broke, however, when Bruce left to ask Tony what they should eat for dinner.

Almost immediately, Bruce ran back up upstairs. "Tony's gone!"

Immediately, Steve's head snapped up. "What?" he asked sharply. Sketchbook aside, he stood, his eyes wide. "What do you mean-"

"He's just gone! As in, not in his lab," Bruce shook his head slightly.

For a moment Steve just stood there, almost as if he didn't know what to do. "Well should we call him? Maybe he's... well.." his brow furrowed slightly.

"He's running an errand," Natasha interjected, motioning for Clint, who had hopped down from the table and was making his way over, to go back to what he was doing. "I spoke with him earlier. He had something to attend to."

"Well what sort of business did our friend have?" Thor asked, giving Natasha a curious look.

She merely shrugged, deciding that she wouldn't ruin this surprise for Steve. Tony had said he needed to go out and get something for him, after all. "Something important."

"Well that's vague," Steve muttered, then looked to Bruce. "Are his ribs really even healed enough for him to be... out and about?"

Bruce crossed his arms, thinking. "He should be fine as long as he just walks. If he falls and doesn't protect his ribs the right way, that could cause problems. But Tony seemed okay enough to be steady on his feet, right?" the doctor looked over at Clint and Natasha.

Clint bit his lip when Natasha nodded. Goddammit, Tony. _What if you have an episode in the middle of the fucking street? What then, huh?_ There was nothing he could do now, not without blowing Tony's cover...screw that, he couldn't wait to the moment when a hospital called. Steve wouldn't fair to that well. "I could, um, go look for him." he offered. Natasha gave him an odd look.

"What kind of problems could he have if he falls?"

"Um, well, Steve, this is just basing it off odds and practical guesses..." Bruce told the solider. "its just that with the ribs are being so tender and weak from the breaks, its likely that a certain fall could end up further damaging the recovery progress."

Steve looked alarmed, but Natasha cut in, "That's only if he falls the wrong way, though, right, doctor? Tony's pretty resourceful. I'm sure he'll be fine. He seemed pretty keen on going."

Steve turned his gaze on her. "You knew he was going to leave? And didn't tell us?"

"He was supposed to tell me before he left," Natasha said irritably.

"Well where's he going?" Steve demanded. "He's obviously told you, so just fess up."

"Look, it doesn't really matter-"

"It does-"

"I'm sure he is going to be-"

"It matters to me, Natasha!" Steve snapped in frustration, his hands balling into fists. "I have a reason to be worried, and I want to know-"

It was then that Bruce intervened, his hands raised. "Hey, why don't we all just... calm down," he said slowly, sounding strained. "This isn't helping."

"Look, I'm just annoyed that Natasha knew Tony would be going out somewhere and didn't bother to share that information!"

"Friends, perhaps we should not fret. Friend Stark is-" Thor started.

"Don't tell me not to fret," Steve muttered.

Clint's brow furrowed as he whipped out his cell phone to send a text. Nice going, Stark. A war just about broke out because the others realized you weren't here. -CB

Tony groaned as he got the message from Clint. This was just not his day, was it? Steve was mad at him probably, or just depressed, which is even worse because Tony is the cause, and Natasha and Clint are mad at him. Happy refused to drive him to the fondue restaurant, saying something about he didn't want to wake up with an arrow pointed at his nose. So he got a temporary chauffeur. He could drive himself, but Bruce hadn't cleared him. And the less the group could pin on him for leaving the better. The temp was a perk of owning a company. Even if he did not like anyone else driving him around except Happy or just using the Iron Man suit itself.

_I'll be back soon. Promise I'll be fine._ -TS he replied and sighed as the temp rambled something about his daughter being a huge fan of Iron Man. He politely told the middle-aged man that he was tired and not exactly interested in conversation. He accepted and turned his attention back on the road, with not another word.

The fondue place wasn't far, just north of downtown Manhattan. 15 minutes to get there, 20 minutes to place and pick up the order, and 15 minutes to get back to the Tower. Not bad, right?

Now he just has to hope that the building wasn't destroyed when he got there or he'd walk out of the restaurant with 5 bitchfaced Avengers, one may which be very green and big.

_Better be fine or I'll kick your ass._ -CB Clint replied, still debating on going out to find Tony. He could easily ask JARVIS to track him or something like that, right? Yeah, maybe, he thought as he eyed the rest of the group, becoming alarmed at how jittery Bruce seemed. Uh oh. That was never a good thing. "Heeeey..." he quickly walked over, "Tony's gonna be fine. In the meantime, why don't we all-"

"I'll be in my room," Steve muttered before Clint could even finish.

Clint sighed when Steve abruptly walked off. "Okay..." he said, looking at the others and then at Bruce directly, wary. "Alright, Bruce?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." And Clint could trust he meant it.

Steve headed down the hallway, letting out a long breath as he passed the door to the guest room- no, he wasn't going in there right now. He hated that room. Instead, he moved a few doors down to Tony's room- their room- and slowly pushed the door open. It felt strange that he hadn't been able to sleep here in his own bed in so long, and he didn't even care about the potentially awkward situation it might cause if Tony came in here to find him laying down, hugging Tony's pillow to his chest. "He's such an idiot," he mumbled angrily to himself.

Steve, in his own manner, was pissed. Yeah, it was probably pointless to be. That didn't help his thoughts, however. Everything was getting shot to hell. The hope Steve had of a happy ending, Tony distancing himself from him and the team and certainly not interested in rekindling his relationship with Steve, their anniversary now in ruins...and waiting. The waiting was the worst. Now that his initial sadness had left, he was instead filled with a boiling frustration that seemed keen on lashing out.

That wasn't supposed to be like him. Things that Steve had accustomed to were disappearing. But he wasn't going to mope anymore. He couldn't afford it. He's Captain America, for Christ's sake! Who knows when the next crisis will be, and he couldn't be out of shape. Whether it was physically or mentally, it would impact his team and the mission. Hence the HYDRA base blunder. That simple slip from his emotional demeanor had nearly caused an explosion, a nuclearone.

He didn't know how to go about Tony. Keep walking on eggshells? Let him do what he wants? All he wanted to do is run up and kiss him, shake him by the shoulders and yell that he was Steve and he loved him so much and please, Tony and see him smile: really smile. Steve didn't know if he could ever see that again. Or kiss him again. Or hug him, even. He couldn't imagine living the rest of his life not falling asleep to Tony's arc reactor illuminating the room and him making odd jokes or just whispering that he loved him. Couldn't imagine not feeling Tony's lips against his, the feel of him...he didn't know if he could live longing for that when he didn't know if it'll ever come.

How long can he wait for Tony before he just can't any longer?

"Thanks, sir," Tony said to the man behind the register and walked out of the restaraunt and ignored the looks: some incredulous, some criticizing, and some downright flirty. He checked his watch and saw that he had 9 minutes left before his hour was up. Dammit. He'd meant to be quicker. He squinted, looking for the temp driver, and as he turned the corner he found himself face to face with Clint Barton as he came from God knows where above.

He fell back in surprise, and Clint caught his arm. "Wha-what are you doing here?"

"Came to find you," he said curtly. "When I said that you should get Steve's favorite dinner, I didn't mean to vanish without anyone knowing where you are."

"Natasha knew." he said pathetically.

"She didn't know where."

"She didn't need to know where," Tony muttered.

"Yeah, well it woulda been nice to know, so everyone didn't go into a panic when they realized you weren't home!" Clint snapped, hand still on Tony's arm. He quickly spotted the car waiting for him and started in that direction. "Look, I know it's frustrating, but we worry because we care."

"Don't see why," was the quiet response from Tony.

He sighed. All this emotional I-care-about-you-because blah blah blah had never really been Clint's type of thing to deal with. Steve had always been the one who was good with that sort of stuff. "Tony. You're our friend, so of course we're gonna care," he finally said. "Now let's get home so you can give Steve his food. Maybe it'll get him to stop moping around and shit."

Tony blinked at that. "Wait, has he been moping? Because I didn't mean to act the way I did after he gave me the picture…" he sighed, sliding into the back seat of the car. Yeah, he knew he could be an ass, but he actually hadn't mean to hurt Steve that time. It had just been the fear of having an episode that had driven away. "That's great."

Clint climbed in beside him, eyeing the food Tony was carrying. "Hey, the guy likes to eat. That's bound to cheer him up, yeah?"

Tony just grunted in response and waved over the car, and he slid into the seat with Clint next to him. "What if he's still mad at me?"

"He's Steve." Clint scoffed. "Although, if you told him what's going on..."

"You know what? Forget I asked. You're no help at all."

Clint didn't seem offended in the least and simply leaned back into the leather seats. "Yeah, well, that's not what I'm here for. I'm here to bring your sorry ass back home. That's another one you owe me."

"I owe you nothing."

"I beg to differ. I'm covering you with your freaky shit seizures."

"How many times do I have to tell you, they're not seizures?"

"Shuddup." Clint couldn't see it, but as Tony looked away from him and out the window, he was smiling a little.

1 hour and 10 minutes. Tony said he'd be back in an hour, and now he was late. The last time Tony had gone off on his own, he'd nearly gotten himself killed...again. So the lateness mattered. Steve sat at the main kitchen table, the luminous windows displaying the darkening purple sky. The rest of the team had scattered during when Steve returned from he and Tony's room, and Clint had left him a message that he was going to look for Tony. Natasha, Bruce, and Thor, he didn't know. But he was grateful for the alone time: usually the tower was never quiet. Not with them.

He shot up from his seat when he heard Tony talking from the hall and put on a stern face, crossing his arms. Tony walked into the kitchen with a bag, a stupid grin on his face.

"Hi." he said, and held out the bag in front of him. "Got you something."

Steve rose an eyebrow as he glanced at the bag. "Got me something?" he asked in surprise, his tone a mixture of annoyed, yet flattered at the same time. What was it that Tony would have brought him?

"Yup," Tony moved closer than to place the bag down on the table.

He watched for a moment, brow furrowed, before forgetting about the bag. "You shouldn't have just left like that, Tony, it wasn't-"

"Brought you food," Tony interjected, beginning to unpack the bag. Nope, he wasn't going to let Steve lecture him right now. He was going to give the man the damn food and make him like it rather than listen to the bitching. "Guess what it is?" he glanced to Steve for just a moment, that same stupid grin on his face.

Sighing, Steve shook his head. "I don't know, and I really don't care. You're not even listening to me and that is really-"

"Gotcha fondue," he pushed a container in Steve's direction, eyebrows shooting up.

Steve blushed, and Tony seemed confused at that, but then he laughed. "Tony, how did you-"

"Clint told me," he said quickly. He motioned to the container in his hand. "Here. It's good, I think. I had it once a long time ago."

Steve smiled. He and Tony often went to get fondue for their dinners, but then Tony wouldn't know that. "Thanks, Tony. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah," he said absently, not looking directly at Steve, wringing his hands. He seemed distracted now, the grin on his face replaced with his "bad look". Steve was familiar with it. It meant he was either frustrated or struggling with the right thing to say; not something he struggled with often. He walked closer to Steve and handed him the container, and the closeness almost made Steve lean forward instinctively and kiss him. He caught himself, luckily.

"Tony, I-"

"Happy anniversary, Steve," Tony said, and Steve saw his smile was sad.

"Happy anniversary, Tony," he nodded slowly, taking the container. "Thank you. I really do appreciate this," he murmured.

Tony averted his gaze, still looking a bit uneasy. "Yeah, it's nothing. Thought I should do something, you know?" he took a step back then, almost as if he was about to flee the room, but the sight of Steve's brow furrowing both in curiosity and disappointment had him stopping. "So, uh," he took a seat since he didn't know what else to do, and then he grabbed the second container from the bag. Food. The food would be a distraction, right?

Steve put out forks and handed Tony his own and watched the man dig in before glancing down at his own meal. "When are we going to talk about this, Tony?"

"Talk about what?" he asked, but he knew very well what Steve meant. Of course he did.

"Tony, please-"

"I got you fondue, doesn't that-"

"Tony!" Steve nearly yelled, eyes blazing.

"Steve," Tony muttered back. "I just...I want to enjoy this. No arguments, no suspicions...just us having dinner without speaking of any awkwardness or whatever. Can we do that?"

For a moment Steve just looked at him, before finally sighing. "Yeah," he said, turning to the food. "Okay."

"Thanks."

A silence fell over the two as they ate, until Steve decided that maybe he could start up a normal conversation. Tony always loved talking about his work, and he knew that wouldn't have changed. "So, anything exciting happening in the lab?"

Blinking, the genius turned to look at him, seeming surprised that he had asked. "Uh, I dunno. Not much..."

Just as Steve predicted, Tony began running through a list of improvement he had made to the Iron Man suit, from enhanced hearing from the HUD to better joint movement to stronger repulsors. He nodded as he continued talking about the process, not understanding one bit except for familiar words. Then something caught his attention.

"...Jarvis is organizing everything for me from the point where I lost my memory and things that I'm remem-" The last word was said so fast and cut off so short Steve barely caught it, but he did. He wanted to bring it up, to demand answers, because Tony had just about admitted in remembering, even if it was a well-covered slip. And that it was; he continued talk as nothing had happened.

And Steve didn't say anything, because...well, he didn't know really why. Was it because he was tired of Tony's inability to give a straight answer? Probably. But he stayed quiet and answered his request to just keep it as a casual dinner. The odd thing was, if Steve squinted through his thoughts, it was almost like any other dinner he had with his husband on a lazy Friday night.

"So that's pretty much it," Tony finally said, glancing to Steve as he chewed a bite of food. He paused, just watching him for a moment. "Well, uh, what about you? Anything… interesting?" he wasn't really sure what they normally talked about when they ate together, but he assumed he at least asked Steve how he was.

"Well.." No, there really wasn't anything interesting here lately. He'd been cooped up inside a house with his team and a husband that didn't even know him. "Just been drawing and hanging around the gym some. Gone through several punching bags. Listened to Thor talk about wanting to get a kitten…"

"A kitten?" Tony repeated incredulously. "No. No, no, absolutely not."

"I think it would be kind of fun," Steve teased, twirling his fork, "having a cat in the Avengers tower. No one in this tower is cuddly."

Tony stared at him suspiciously for a long moment. "You're kidding."

Steve laughed, "Your expression was priceless, Tony. I wish I had a camera."

"You wish you knew how to work a camera!" Tony said playfully, smirking at him. He recalled how he told Clint he was building a robot for Steve and shook his head, robots are much easier than a cat. He'd never even had one! He hasn't even had an actual pet before, since he doesn't consider his robots as pets but rather his workers and admittedly friends. The poor creature would be probably be squashed by Thor's meaty hands.

"Hey, Tony? Can I ask you something? Nothing insightful...just a question."

"Um, sure," he said slowly, raising an eyebrow. _I swear to God, Steve, if you bring up this shit again-_

"What's it like? Having that blank spot in your head, and not seeing anything, just knowing something's missing?"

For a moment Tony just stared at him, and he was suddenly thinking maybe he shouldn't have asked that. If it was just going to set him off in some sort of bad mood...

"It's fucking annoying," Tony finally said, causing the other man to chuckle quietly. "What? It is. It's like... Sometimes it's like having something on the tip of my tongue, as if it's almost there, but... it isn't. Or other times, it's easy to forget that I have... well.. forgotten. Dunno. Depends. Either way, it fucking sucks."

"Yeah. I bet so," Steve poked at his food. "And I'm sorry. That it sucks."

"And the other thing is, its hurting you, too, which makes it all the worse." Tony's voice dropped to a near mumble. "I can deal with anything on my own, I always have. But when its hurting someone else? I can't..."

"Tony." Steve's breath caught in his throat. "I'm okay."

"No you're not. I know you're damn good at being the leader, but you're awful at hiding your emotions, you know that?" Tony didn't sound angry, just indifferent. He wasn't looking at Steve, just continued stirring his food. "About as bad as me."

Steve found it odd that he'd been waiting for Tony to open up and now that he was, even if it was just a little, he didn't want to talk. Not on this day. He just wanted Tony there. "I...hey, Tony, wanna watch a movie?" he asked hopefully.

Tony seemed a little annoyed that was all Steve had to say, but he nodded anyways. "Yeah, movie. We can do that."

It seemed to make Steve perk up. "Okay, awesome. You can pick the movie, since you always do," he said as he stood up.

"Because I know all the good ones?"

"Well, most of the good ones."

"Most?"

"Most," Steve nodded, taking one last bite of his food.

Without another word, Steve picked up their containers and threw them in the trash, and then followed Tony to the common room, which was curiously empty. "Where is everyone?" Steve asked, more to himself.

"I bet Clint's hiding in the vents, that sneaky son of a bitch." Tony muttered. "It's a little unnerving to walk into an area of the house and look up to see him looking down at you."

Steve snorted a laugh and plopped down on the couch. "So, what are we watching?"

Tony grinned and went to the large case of DVDs, noticeably the Jackie Chan movies were missing which meant Clint and Natasha were probably holed up somewhere and criticizing his stunts, if his knowledge about the two spies was anything to go by. He searched around and saw one of his favorite movies: Chuck Norris's 

"Good grief, Tony, not this movie again!"

"I never got to see your reaction to it!" Tony complained. "It's a classic, anyway. I know all the good ones, like you said."

Steve just shook his head, smiling, as Tony sat next to him on the couch. If he squinted, it was like nothing had changed, when just about everything had twisted. Tonight, Steve was grateful for the peace.


	12. Chapter 12

_A few days later..._

He hadn't seen Tony all day. It normally wasn't something for Steve to be concerned about, because the man had a tendency to disappear into the lab for extended periods of time, but he didn't like it when it went this long. Especially here lately, with Tony acting strangely and Steve becoming pretty sure that the man definitely was having flashbacks and reoccurring memories. He just liked to check on him. So, with a large mug of coffee in hand as a peace offering, Steve headed down to the lab, and was delighted to see that Tony hadn't locked him out this time.

"Hey," he put the mug down and glanced around, blinking when he saw a few sparks in one direction. He turned, even more surprised to find the Iron Man suit out, and Tony doing what looked like a routine tune up on it.

Tony blinked, pausing for a moment and flipping his protective helmet up to see Steve. "Oh, hey," he said and then got back to work, itching to get this done. It had been too damn long since he'd been in this suit, and after weeks of wishing, he was finally able to get back in and fly the thing.

"Uh..." Steve stepped closer. "What're you doing?"

"Bruce didn't tell you?" Tony said through the mask, his voice muffled, "I'm cleared for flight. Nothing too fancy, he says, but as long as I can at least take her out for a while, it's fine with me."

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Tony caught him to it.

"Ah, no complaining from you, Cap. You know it's safe when a doctor clears it."

Steve swallowed his concern then, for the sake of avoiding an argument, and just nodded. Okay, so he wasn't too happy with Tony taking off to the skies, or Bruce not talking to him about it first. He was pissed about that. But he did know that Tony was probably the happiest, at least this Tony, in the skies with his suit.

He was still pissed.

Tony finally looked back to Steve after a moment, scowling at the expression on his face. "Oh, come on. Don't look so pissy," he rolled his eyes. "A little flying isn't going to kill me."

"I know!" Steve snapped without meaning to, before he let out a long sigh. He told himself not to get angry towards Tony right now, because that never helped anything, and also because he knew this might be good for the other. The genius was probably feeling cooped up in this tower so maybe some flying would help. Right?

He still worried, though.

"Just," he huffed. "Just be careful, you know?"

"I'm always careful," Tony replied back automatically, though that smirk of his settled across his mouth as he looked over the last couple of things on his suit. Almost done now, thank god, he thought.

"Besides," Tony went on, "I've got Jarvis looking after me. Right, J?"

"Precisely, sir."

"See?" he grinned at Steve. He nodded to himself and pressed a button on a control panel near his desk, and robot arms gathered the assortment of armor parts, following the genius to a metal linen rectangle area of the lab and the arms, from the right, left, up, and from the floor began assembling the suit on Tony's body. Piece by piece.

Tony looked amazed; something Steve didn't see often, especially associated with his own tech. He was probably marveling at all the improvements he'd wanted to make had happened without him even knowing. Once the chest plate connected with the arc reactor, it hummed to life just as his helmet HUD turned on.

"Jarvis? You up and running?"

"Yes, sir. All systems are a go."

Steve watched as Tony checked over a few more things, and then suddenly, the man was taking off right in the middle of the lab. "Tony..."

"See ya!"

A flash of red and gold went by and Tony was suddenly off, causing Steve to run after. "Tony!" he was yelling. "No flying in the house, it's a rule!" But it seemed as if the other couldn't even hear him. Steve finally just gave up and shook his head, a small laugh escaping from his lips.

"Jarvis, open the shoot!" Tony called out, and a hole literally opened within the wall, spiraling out to create a pathway. With that, Tony shot through the hole and Steve could hear him whooping in joy as he took to the skies. He rolled his eyes. That wasn't any different than any other time Tony had been taken away his privileges to use his suit.

"Well, he sure didn't waste any time." Bruce remarked from behind him.

"He's been planning this from the day he got home from the hospital, no doubt."

Bruce nodded in agreement, and turned to Steve, boring his gaze to his. "How are you holding up?"

"Well enough." Steve said bluntly, his tone dripping with a challenge to continue to pester him. "He's safe, healing. What's there to be upset about, right?"

The scientist just sighed sadly. "Yeah. Right."

Two things that should have occurred to Tony before he took off 20,000 feet into the air: a.) he was no medical doctor and therefore had no idea if amnesia would affect his flying, and b.) if he had an attack, he'd fall to his death.

Okay, so they had crossed his mind, he just ignored them. The problem was that he had a piercing headache, and he was now swooping up and down in an uneven path. He had to keep it together, because if he got lower than seeing distance, then Steve would see, and Steve knows when Tony isn't flying well. He gritted his teeth and told Jarvis to maneuver him even higher.

"Sir? Our trajectory path is-"

"Did I program you to argue with me? Go higher!"

Steve left the lab before he completely bit Bruce's head off. He made his was upstairs and into the main living area, where Clint and Natasha were watching a movie.

"What, couldn't convince Tony to come out of the lab?" Clint yawned.

Steve sighed as he walked passed them to head outside. "He went out flying. Got cleared for it, I guess, and-" he paused, blinking at the strange look on Clint's face. "What?"

"He was cleared for flight?" Clint sat up, one thing on his mind. If Tony had one of those memory seizure things, he would fall right out of the sky! "Uh. Shit."

Steve looked puzzled. "Shit...?"

"Sir, it is inadvisable to-"

"I just said don't argue," Tony interjected as he pushed the suit higher; ignoring what the AI was rambling at him.

_Bad idea, bad idea!_ His mind screamed at him as his headache just about split his head open. _Don't you dare pass out and fall out of the fucking sky, Stark._

The higher he went, the worse his head got. For a second, his vision tunneled and he was spiraling downward again, and Jarvis was still yelling at him.

"Sir, sir! Should I take over on auto pilot? Sir?"

"Yes," he gasped, opening his eyes again.

*******

Clint swiftly ran down to the lab, cursing Tony for all he's worth of doing something so incredibly stupid. He tapped into the communication system and called, "Iron Man, do you copy?"

"Yeah...I think I'm gonna come down now."

Tony's voice sounded strained. "Memory thing?"

"Didn't think a flight would cause any memories, but uh...not working so well."

"Get your tin can ass down here before I have to explain to your husband why you went ka-splat on the sidewalk." Clint said, worried for his friend.

"Explain what to his husband?" Steve snapped from where he stood in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. 

Clint spun around in surprise, eyes widening when he saw the super soldier standing there. Oh. Shit. "Uh..." he sort of laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

Steve gave him an expectant look. "Clint..."

Clint swore under his breath as Tony called out from the comm, "Clint, please tell me that wasn't Steve."

"Oh, it's Steve alright." The captain gritted out. "Tony, what's wrong? What's happening?"

"Uhh...faulty system?"

Steve walked over and muted the comm, so that Tony couldn't hear them. "What's going on, Barton?"

"Nothing!" Clint insisted, shrugging his shoulders. "Just, yeah, faulty system like Tony said, you know. He should be back soon, so..."

Steve stared. It was clear he didn't believe the other, but he sighed and backed away. "Alright. Well... That's fine, if you want to lie to me. I'll just ask Natasha to get the truth out of you..." he acted as if he was leaving.

"NO!" Shit, no. Nat was scary when she wanted to know something!

"Then tell me what's going on!" Steve said, exasperated. He felt like he was literally being shut out by an invisible door day by day. "Obviously something is wrong. And not with the suit. So what's wrong with Tony?"

"Who said anything is wrong with Tony, he's fine. Look, he's flying and everything. I don't know where you're getting this-" Clint said meekly. Oh, yeah. He was just so great at this. You need someone to keep a secret? Call Clint Barton, because he's awesome at it. But he knew he couldn't tell Steve. So he wouldn't. Not exactly.

"Is it his head? Memories or whatever?"

"Um..."

"I know he's remembering things, so don't bother denying it. I just need the details, so please..."

Eyes shifting left to right, he put his hands out in front of him as defense. "Hey, you're going to need to talk to Tony about this shit. I'm under strict orders."

*****

"Clint? Goddammit, Clint!" If Tony could, he'd have punched something. But he couldn't because his supercomputer was controlling his limbs as they flew steadily back to the Tower. Too steadily. Tony's flying style was "wild" as Pepper used to describe, but Tony prefers creative.

He'd bet everything Steve knows that too.

His headache was better, but it felt like if he lost concentration, he'd lose touch with reality again. He had to stay awake. He had to stay away because god fucking dammit Steve will be worried and he really doesn't know why he cares at all about how Steve will feel. He has an impulsive need to protect him, and Tony took it as his pride taking a hitch, yet now it seems like...he really cares.

_You don't need anyone, Tony. It's the next mission and nothing else._ Half the time he wished his own motto wasn't true. And he must've hit his head harder than he thought in the accident because Tony Stark did not admit weaknesses to himself. _I hate this._

"Clint, dammit, don't you get how important this is?!" Steve snapped angrily, but then suddenly Tony was back, suit having automatically dropped back in through the chute. It began to disassemble, revealing a very pale and woozy Tony Stark.

Clint took that as his opportunity to leave and he quickly sprinted for the door, ignoring the glare Steve shot in his direction. Whatever. He was getting out of there before things got even uglier.

"Tony?" Steve finally approached him, sighing as he took in his appearance. "Hey. Are you okay?" Tony looked at Steve blearily, trying to focus his vision. It was blurry and fading. Until it clicked that who exactly it was standing in front of him; tall, blonde, and very scornful. When it did click, he opened his mouth to say, "I'm fine," and instead what came out was, "I'm tired...and you're kinda cute when you're angry."

The blurry Steve reached out to him, looking less mad and more concerned than anything, and that's when he realized the floor was rushing up to him very fast. But Steve's voice was so loud in his head there was no memories. It's like his focus latched on to the sound of Steve and Tony was incredibly grateful for that. _Thank you, subconscious, for remembering how wonderful Steve's voice sounds. Wait, what? Why...?_

"Tony, for God's sakes, speak to me or I will call Bruce down here!"

"Um...faulty system?" he said meekly, and Steve was angry with him again. Oops.

"Don't give me that," Steve said angrily, letting out a slow breath. "Look, Tony, I just…. I'm not stupid. I know you're remembering things, and what happened out there wasn't a faulty system or whatever the hell you come up with."

God dammit, why was Steve so stubborn? Tony rubbed at his face, trying to think clearly, before he shook his head. He didn't say anything at first and it just seemed to make Steve even angrier. Shit. "Look, you-"

"Don't lie to me, Tony. Please," the other man interjected, the anger that was in his blue eyes just a moment before replaced with desperation. "I'm trying to help you and make sure you don't get hurt. Can you not understand that?"

"Steve," Tony swallowed thickly, "I know. I know that. You have to understand me-"

"I can't understand you if you don't even tell me what's wrong with you!"

"Whoa now let's not jump to conclusions here. Who said anything is wrong with me?" Tony demanded, his automatic verbal defense kicking in. Yeah, okay. He wasn't actually hiding his issue very well. At all. Probably because Clint was an awful liar. At least to Natasha and his close friends. Tony, on the other hand, was a grade-A liar. So why was he failing so badly at keeping it together?

Because the new Tony tells Steve everything, a little voice whispered to him. Bullshit. He propped himself up on his elbows and avoided Steve's piercing gaze. Right now, And being the insomniac he was he found this odd, he wanted to sleep.

Steve rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Tony," he tried again, trying his very best to stay calm. "Please, I'm not saying something's wrong with you, but just…" he trailed off. Yeah, actually, there was something wrong. He couldn't remember Steve, couldn't remember their fucking marriage, and that was definitely something wrong! But he didn't say that right then. "It's killing me to watch you try to hide these things. You're a good liar, Tony, but keeping things from me has been something you haven't done in a long, long time, whether you remember it or not."

God, he was just so tired and wanted to be left alone. He stood up. "Steve," he muttered, not even knowing what to say to that. "Can you just… not do this right now? Come on."

Steve's teeth gritted. _No, we have to do this now. Right now. I can't wait much longer or I'm going to go insane._ "Fine, Tony. You want to be this way, you go for it. Just know..."

"Know what?" Tony muttered. "That you're not going to be there when I come crying to you when I fuck up something?"

"No. That I will be there. Because I love you, Tony, and that's something you seem to be ignoring. I didn't stop loving because you woke up and you were different. I didn't stop loving you because you don't love me back. So yeah, I'll be there when you need me. Even if you don't deserve it." Steve's eyes were bright with emotion, and he could feel his heart clench with his mixed emotions. Anger and guilt settled within him, but it needed to be said. A lot of things needed to be said, actually, but they had to take baby steps, right?

He expected for Tony to give him a smart ass comment back or at least say something, but Steve was met with silence. Tony was just staring at him, an odd expression on his face. "Look-" he started again, but it was then that Tony seemed to have something to say.

"Uh," Tony rubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? Because Steve was right, he didn't love him back; he couldn't remember how to love him back... and hearing someone say that they'd actually be there when he needed them was just strange. It wasn't a thing he was really used to, to be quite honest. "Okay." He finally said when nothing else came to mind. "Thanks."

Thanks.

That's all he was going to say? Steve stared at him, now being the one not knowing how to respond. "Well," he finally sighed. "You're welcome?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out another slow breath. "And I hope you know that I really mean all of that, too."

_I don't deserve it, though. I think I lost that privilege a long time ago._ , Tony thought. "Yeah. It's just weird to me."

"What's weird?" Steve asked, frowning.

"People promising to stay with me even after I've been a complete asshole. Which happens often, I mean, look at me. I am an asshole, I know that. And when I found out that you were married to me the first thing that popped into my head was, 'why in the hell would this guy marry someone like me?' I still don't know the answer. So I want to ask you a question. Why? Why me? What possessed you to do such a stupid thing like fall in love with me?"

Steve looked like he wanted to reach out and hug Tony, but he was too wired to accept it, and he took a step back. Steve caught him anyway. With his strong arms around him, Tony went limp in his hold; too tired, way too tired to care.

Steve slid his arms around Tony and let out a breath. God, how long had it been since he'd been able to do something as simple as hug him? "How can you really explain why you love someone?" he whispered, shaking his head as he held him a bit tighter.

Tony was silent, just limp in his arms. He was warm and this was actually... nice. Very nice. It took him a moment to realize that Steve was moving him out of the room and he blinked. "What?"

"You need to go to bed."

"No," he whined, "I have to fix that faulty system, so that I won't fall out of the sky again..."

"Bullshit." Steve said, but his voice was soft and not angry at all. Tony liked him better this way. "You don't have to tell me...today. But you do have to humor me and sleep for a while."

As Steve led them up the stairs, Tony leaned more into Steve unconsciously and sighed, "You're mean."

Steve just grinned in response and finally they reached Tony's floor, he shifted Tony's weight in his arms. He was grateful there was no one around to see them, because well, he didn't want Tony to feel any more awkward about what to him was an awkward situation. Of course, to Steve, this was an occurrence he was used to. Before the accident and all this shit happened, Tony often forgot the time and Steve would find him passed out in the lab and Steve would carry him up. Walking into the bedroom, he laid him down on top of the covers on the bed and right when he was about to turn, something gripped his sleeve.

"You can stay," Tony mumbled, eyes closed and Steve doubted he was aware of what he was really doing.

"No, you rest, and I-" he stopped and tried to tug his arm away, but Tony seemed persistent.

"No, no it's okay. You can stay," he mumbled, a bit firmer this time before he was suddenly shifting to slip under the blankets. He tugged them close and then peeked an eye open to look up at Steve. "Really. Stay." It wasn't a 'you can stay' that time; it was more a request, almost a demand that he stay there.

Steve let out a small sigh, almost turning around to leave the room. But as he looked down at Tony again he finally just gave in, so he moved to his own side of the bed and lay down, but remained over the covers. "There," he mumbled, eyes shifting to Tony, who was curling up with the pillows. He watched him, unable to control the small smile on his lips as he watched the sleepy man get settled.

Tony was out in seconds from the time Steve had lay down on the bed with him, his soft snoring filling the room. Steve swallowed harshly and glanced at Tony's sleeping form. He doesn't think he's seen Tony so peaceful looking since he was unconscious in the hospital, and Steve realized that he hadn't slept in his own bed for weeks. Might as well take advantage of this, right? At least then he had an excuse if Tony woke up and demanded why Captain America was in his bed.

It would be his fault. Smiling again, he shifted to his comfort on the bed and closed his eyes, too. Tony didn't move when Steve snuggled closer to him. Even if he did, Steve didn't really care.

Eventually, Steve did begin to doze off. He was actually pretty tired, and it was nice to be in this bed again- the damn thing in the guest bedroom just sucked to sleep on. Sure, it was some fancy, expensive mattress that Tony had gotten, but it didn't compare to this bed, to their bed that he actually felt comfortable in, Steve thought. He sighed and buried his head into his pillow, just barely registering the fact that Tony had suddenly latched onto him before he dozed off. Hm. So maybe he wasn't the only on that wanted to snuggle right now.

So Steve sucked up his fear of Tony not approving, and matched his breathing to Tony's, saw the arc reactor peeking through the thread lining of his t-shirt, and smiles. And Steve thinks that he's never been more at peace for what felt like forever. Even if it was just weeks ago. He revels the feeling.

*****

Even in his dreams, Tony's remembering. Or not. Whatever it could be described as, he was powerless as he relived it. First he was in a park in New York, coffee in hand and Steve's large, warm hand in the other. Then he was flying through the sky again, and Thor, yes, this was rather alarming to Tony because he's never seen the god in action, was fucking flying next to him with the power of a hammer. Working on something or other with Bruce, draining caffeine with a vengeance and feeling grateful for the help other than the robots. Happy. A happy Tony Stark. _I wish I could remember those things, I guess. They're not so bad._

And Tony didn't fight the dreams like he often tried to in his sleep.

*****

Even after he woke up, Steve didn't move from the bed. No… he lay there, relishing the feeling of being close to his husband, of being able to touch him and lay next to him. Despite the fact that Tony wouldn't allow it when he woke up, Steve felt like it helped to just stay here for a moment and feel like things were normal. He was okay, he thought, and he was going to keep pushing through to do anything he could for this man beside him. He'd do anything to have every single night be like this again. To have Tony back, the way they were supposed to be. He'd do anything. He looked at his sleeping face and smiled softly, noting how peaceful he seemed. Perhaps that meant he was having good dreams?

"You're an idiot," he finally murmured, shaking his head, just gently brushing his hair from his face. "My idiot."

When Tony came to, he knew two things for certain: On the bright side, Tony wasn't hungover. On the down side, Tony was in bed, cuddling with someone. His mind didn't automatically register that it was Steve, and so his playboy side pretty much guessed that it was a beautiful babe from a charity benefit that he'd met the night before, and alas, they'd ventured into the bedroom.

It wasn't so.

Instead, he was exceptionally closely cuddled into Steve's chest, which you know, wasn't bad...okay, Tony, stop. Stop right there. And an arm was tossed carelessly around him. He could move, he really could. However, it was comfy. And it's not like it was his fault that Steve couldn't resist his touchy feely ways from being married to Tony before. Maybe he'd just stay here until Steve woke up to avoid any awkwardness of waking Steve up in the process of getting up.

"I know you're awake."

The sound of Steve's voice startled Tony and he jumped, pulling back to look at him. "Uh. Oh. You're awake, too." Shit. Talk about awkward. He glanced away before stretching, seeming much occupied with that. Yep. Stretching was important.

"Yep." Steve couldn't help but smirk at the look on Tony's face. It was clear the other man was embarrassed for having been caught cuddling up to him, and the fact that he was actually trying to hide a blush made the soldier want to burst out laughing. But he didn't, somehow. He held that in. Instead, he merely smirked even more, gaze right on Tony. "I guess I'm pretty comfortable, hm?"

"Oh hush up, Rogers." Tony grumbled, his face reddening even more. "Don't flatter yourself too much; you'll ruin your image. Jarvis, what time is it?"

"It is 7 in the evening, sir."

Tony blinked in surprise and looked at Steve, whose expression was matching how Tony felt. They'd been sleeping for 4 hours. "Wow. Everyone is going to think we 'did it', I guarantee it."

It was Steve's turn to blush, and revenge was sweet, and the solider sat up in the bed. "No they won't."

"Cap, we disappeared for hours. On my floor. Into my bedroom." Tony had successfully wiped that smirk off Steve's face and replaced it with his own. A neat trick, if he did say so himself. "Oh yes, we better have a damn good cover story."

"We don't have anything to hide." Steve rolled his eyes.

"Except that you grope in your sleep. I knew I felt something touch my ass."

"Tony!" Steve glared at him. "I did not."

"How would you know, if you were asleep? It's called sleep-groping for a reason, you know."

"You just made that up." The super solider grumbled as he stood up and began walking out of the room.

"Actually I bet there's a more scientific version of it but I'm can't think of it. Hey can we have pizza tonight? I want pizza. Pepperoni? Steve, do you like pepperoni on your pizza? Or sausage? 'Cause we-"

Steve shook his head. The moment had been nice, at least.

*********

Nobody, to Tony's relief, even asked them anything about their disappearance. They ate pizza, and Tony left to his lab, saying he had to fix something, and didn't sleep that night. Not one wink. In fact, it was 10 in the morning and Tony was still working on the schematics for an upgrade to his suit and no one came down to scold him. He wasn't sure if this was a good sign or bad.

"Sir, there's an incoming call from Pepper Potts." Jarvis announced.

Tony nearly dropped the tablet in his hand. He hadn't spoken to Pepper since that night. That stupid night. "Um…okay." He took a breath. "Answer it."

" _Tony Stark-Rogers, you are one reckless son of a bitch, you know that?_ " He could practically see Pepper glaring.

"You're a little late to the guilt party."

_"Oh, I'm not calling to give you a piece of my mind. I just had to say that one thing. Now that that's aside, I need you to do something for me."_

"Didn't you get the memo? I'm sure you did, considering that you're the one who wrote it to the press. 'Tony Stark…Rogers is on a personal leave from all Stark Industry related business.'"

_"I'm making an exception."_

"So what is it that I have to do? Because I'm busy, you know. Lots of things to do."

A long sigh came from the other end of the phone line. _"Tony,"_ Pepper began again, her voice firm and in the 'no-nonsense' tone that the billionaire had no trouble recognizing. Didn't mean he wasn't going to give her a hard time, though. _"You need to be at the event tomorrow night. Some of your big investors will be there, and you need to talk with them. Impress them. Be nice."_

"You're killing me, Pep. Did I not just say I was busy?" he rolled his eyes as he spoke, hands busily manipulating a hologram on the screen in front of him.

_"You'd better be there, Stark."_

"Oh, sassy," he replied simply, guessing that she was rolling her eyes right now. Oh well.

_"I mean it."_

"Hmm. Better get in touch with my other boss who tries to boss me around and ultimately fails. You have 3 guesses on to who it is. Go."

_"I'll talk with Steve."_ she deadpanned.

"Well don't make it sound like you know everything."

" _He already told me about your house arrest, but I figure that they'll let you go to something work related."_ Pepper sounded exhausted, and Tony didn't blame her. Running a company, even if he did try all the time to lift the weight off himself and spread it to others, was tough. _"People are suspicious about you. You've kept out of the press too long, and now they're on their toes. I released information that you were in a car accident but your recovering steadily, and should be back on track soon. That's not enough anymore."_

"I don't remember anything what I've been doing. What have I been doing?" Tony asked. He'd read over reports and articles about his recent endeavors as being Tony Stark of Stark Industries as well as Tony Stark the Iron Man, and hearing about praise or criticism on something he didn't even remember doing was...odd to say the least.

_"Clean energy. And doing a decent job of it. Now promise me, Tony, that you'll go, be there on time, and stay out of trouble?"_

He grumbled silently to himself. God, he did not want to. The investors will go on and on about all the great things he's done, sucking up to him and then he'll have to suck up to them and...Yeah, he was going to need alcohol tomorrow night. No, not a stupid binge like the incident a few weeks before. Just a little.

Go there, talk, stand around and talk some more, be flirty but do not engage on said flirting, and then slip out. Okay. He could do this. "Fine."

_"Fine?"_

"Yup. I'll go. Send me the details, won't you?"

_"You're going to remember, right?"_

"I don't think you should be asking me that kind of question. Amnesia guy, remember?"

Pepper huffed, clearly satisfied in having done her job the best she could manage. _"I'll see you soon, Tony."_

He sighed when the call ended, just rubbing a hand over his face for a moment. Fucking charity events, he thought. He never had liked the things. Shaking his head, he turned back to the screen in front of him, eyes scanning over figures and numbers until he realized: he needed coffee.

Pepper must've already talked to Steve, because when he walked into the kitchen, the other man spoke up.

"Charity ball, hm?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, getting a mug and heading for the coffee maker.

"Fun, I suppose," Steve said quietly, not mentioning the fact that he, too, had grown used to attending such events. Tony always took him as his guest, after all.

"Not fun." Tony disagreed, as he turned on the coffee maker. He leaned back against the counter while he waited for his coffee. "It's boring."

Steve rolled his eyes. Typical Tony. "Want some company?"

"What? You don't strike me as a guy who would enjoy these things." Tony raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical.

Steve chuckled. "C'mon, Tony, think about it."

"Oh." It dawned on Tony then. "Well, I...think I'll fly this one solo. Just to get back into the game, you know?"

Steve managed to hide his disappointment expertly. "Sure. But I will make sure you go."

Tony huffed at him and trudged back over to his now finished coffee, took a big gulp and left. Steve shook his head, a little worried. He knew that it was a bit irrational to be worried about Tony going to something as simple as a charity event, not a significant one no less, but anything could happen. And Tony was extremely unpredictable right now, otherwise extremely stupid.

*******

When it was nearing time for him to go, he realized that Steve seemed to be hovering. The other man assured him that he was just "reminding" Tony to go whenever he'd pop in or hunt him down, but he didn't think that was the only issue. Sighing, he straightened his tie, looking back when he heard the bedroom door open.

"Everything okay? You need to be there-"

"Steve."

Blue eyes blinked, peering at him curiously.

"I know. I'm capable of looking at the clock."

"Well, I..." Steve huffed. "I know that!" He mumbled. But he also knew how Tony had a tendency to be late, and he was just trying to see if he could get him there on time. That way, Pepper wouldn't be on his ass about it.

An angry Pepper as he had learned over the years was like Death walking the Earth. No escape and you better have a damn good reason printed, pressed, and punctuated if you want to survive her wrath. Okay, exaggerating. Still, though, she was terrifying. He hadn't believed Tony when he first said it and then he'd seen her mad for the first time. She reminded him of Peggy a lot, so he was grateful that they'd become friends even after Tony and he had started dating. Tony was still very good friends with Pepper, best friends even, but he doubted Tony felt that way now.

That made it a good thing that Pepper wasn't going. The last thing Tony needed was that. He cleared his throat. "Happy will be here in 10 minutes."

Tony nodded, and then grimaced at his reflection at the mirror. "Still got some cuts on my face from the accident. I never really noticed before now."

"They're hardly even there," Steve assured him. Pinkish scars ran over a few places on Tony's right cheek and there was a large line on his scalp where his head had connected with the windshield, but from a distance it was hardly recognizable. "Um, your ties crooked."

Tony smirked at him in amusement when Steve walked forward to fiddle with his tie. "You just want an excuse to touch me."

Steve rolled his eyes and tugged on his tie, pulling his Tony's head closer. "I'm actually being helpful."

"Nah. First you cuddle up to me in bed, and now you're trying to paw at my body. I see what's going on here."

"Please," Steve rolled his eyes as he fixed the tie the way he wanted it. "You were the one cuddling up to me. Get it right." he gave him a small smile before he stepped back, brushing a piece of lint from Tony's shoulder. "There. Much better."

Tony glanced in the mirror for just a moment, sighing softly. "Right. Thanks," he said, not looking forward to this event at all. But, hey, there should be some free alcohol, and that was always good, he figured. Just needed to have a little bit of that to get through the night. He wouldn't mention that to Steve, though, because he already knew he was worrying his head off about something stupid. "Okay, well... I'm actually ready early. Strange."

"Sir, Mr. Hogan is awaiting you in the lobby," Jarvis informed them.

"Well, there you go. Right on time." Steve told him, motioning toward the door. "Go before you get distracted."

Tony sighed and began walking toward the exit, but Steve caught his arm. He raised an eyebrow at him.

"Tony, please, be careful." Tony shrugged off his grip and smirked at him, "Of course, Cap."

Getting there was just as he expected. He put on sunglasses and plastered a small smile on his face as Happy let him out. He clapped a hand on Happy's shoulder and nodded to him to say that he was alright. Like a hoard of vultures, cameras flashed, hands reached, and questions were yelled.

"Mr. Stark, what are your conditions regarding your accident?"

"Are you still married to Captain America, Mr. Stark?"

"Tony, Tony, remember me?"

He waved to the crowd as he walked quickly across the red carpet. Sweet relief greeted him upon entering the building. The charity event was for an orphanage in the deep part of New York City, and he knew from the information Pepper had emailed him that a woman had put this all together with her contacts. Neat trick, considering the decent building with such high profile public figures.

Bar, his mind automatically told him, and his direction took a sharp turn to the right where the bar tender was.

He relaxed as he leaned against the bar, drink in hand. A little buzz was all he needed to get through this event. He just needed to walk around, smile, chat it up with some people, and everything would be fine. Then he could forget about this stupid thing that he hated attending.

Two drinks later found Tony in the middle of a conversation with some old dude, who just kept rambling and rambling about something that Tony didn't care about. Talk talk talk talk. But he played nice as told, smiling politely before he finally, finally excused himself. Moving on. He gave a friendly pat to the shoulder on a few people he actually recognized, and even a few to some he didn't, before someone caught his attention.

Ah. Tony would recognize her anywhere. An involuntary smile tugged at his lips and he headed towards where he could see Pepper, dressed in some gorgeous little dress number, her hair tied back into the perfect style. Always beautiful, yet professional. He'd made it about halfway across the room when he stopped, blinking when he realized she was with someone. That someone had their arms around her.

Oh. Rhodey.

Of course she was with Rhodey. Why wouldn't she be? His jaw clenched, and was about to turn on his heel when he heard Pepper call him.

"Tony! I was half expecting you not to come." Like nothing had happened that horrible night when Tony first saw Pepper and Rhodey together and made himself sick. Even Rhodey was smiling widely at him. Huh.

"Yeah, well...Steve made me." He smirked, and Rhodey chuckled. "How are you doing, man?"

"I'm fine, Tony. Just fine. And you?"

"Never better." Liar. Pepper kept looking at his hands and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "What is it, Pep?"

"Rhodey, will you give us a minute?" Pepper asked, and Rhodey reluctantly pecked her on the cheek and walked off. "Tony..."

"What? Seriously, I have no idea why you're using that tone with me. I didn't do anything."

"Your ring, Tony," Pepper said exasperatedly. She motioned to his hands. "Where's your wedding ring?"

Blinking, he looked down to his left hand before shrugging. "Most likely home. Problem?" he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"You should be wearing it. Regardless of where you and Steve stand right now, it needs to be on, or else we're going to have a hell of a lot of people asking questions. I'm sure you don't want to deal with that right now, do you?"

Well, shit. He hadn't known she would get so worked up over a damn ring. "Alright," he let his annoyance drift into his tone and he stepped back. "Excuse me."

"Tony..." Now Pepper sighed. "Don't get mad. You have to understand where I'm coming from here."

"No no no," he held his hands up. "I get it."

She took his ring less hand and squeezed it. "Tony, I love you. You're my closest friend, okay? That didn't change at all. I swear. I have to go now, but I'll call you soon."

"Fine. Okay." Tony replied distractedly, turning away. "You know where I'll be.."

Once he knew Pepper had gone, he looked to the bartender again and motioned for another drink. The night felt like it was going to go longer than it did earlier. He took a swig of his drink, slammed the shot down, and rubbed his temples. Why did everything feel so...the same but different? He scowled to himself. He'd let Pepper down, and he was probably going to let Steve down, too. That's what he did, every single relationship.

If his pride wasn't so bruised he would have been a little embarrassed of how much he was losing track of how many drinks. He felt a little lightheaded. He smiled lopsidedly as a tall skinny brunette strode over to him.

"You're Tony Stark, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. Has anyone told you that I have a thing for brunettes?" he asked, grinning too widely. Smooth, Stark. Are you losing your touch?

"My mother," she smiled, "of all things. She's the one who made this all happen. Hero of the night. Child savior. Whatever you want to call it."

"Really?" Could this girl be any more obvious? Daughter of the night or not, she has the subtlety of a child. He watched as Rachel took a sip of the martini. "Another, for the lovely lady?"

"Say, didn't I hear somewhere that you're married, Mr. Stark?"

His eyes flitted to his ring finger, and anger boiled up. Damn it. One night, one night he wanted to escape his "new" life. He didn't want to think about Steve and how he felt about him or what he should feel about him. He wanted to be Tony Stark who had everything and no one. "Not tonight."

He lost count of how many drinks. He didn't how he was still standing, but he was and he was flirting away like there wasn't a care in the world. Rachel was growing even more stunning by the minute, and he grinned widely at her when she turned to him, batting her eyelashes.

"Tony, do you want to get out of here?"

"What do you think?"

"Lead the way."

That was all Tony needed to hear. He grinned widely at her before they made their way out of the building, to where Happy was waiting. The driver didn't say anything when the two of them got in the car, but Tony caught what seemed to be a frown as they drove off. Oh, whatever. Not like he cared anyways. Happy's thoughts on his behavior were the last thing on his mind right now.

Finally, after a little groping in the backseat, they arrived at the Tower. Rachel's eyes widened a little as they went inside and she glanced around. "Impressive," she sort of giggled, but she did gasp and jump when Jarvis spoke.

"Welcome home, sir."

"Holy shit!"

"Shhhhh," Tony snorted as he slid an arm around her waist, chucking as she leaned against him, bodies pressed close. "That's just Jarv. Don't mind him," he told her as they stepped- well, more like stumbled- off of the elevator, steering towards the bedroom. How they were managing to walk was beyond Tony, but he kept on going.

"I won't," Rachel replied after a moment, stopping in the hallway when the genius pressed her against the wall, playfully.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm," Rachel breathed, her lips brushing his cheek. His skin tingled and his eyes closed, and he was leaning forward to kiss her and...he stopped. He wasn't exactly aware that he did, but he did and Rachel noticed. "Tony, what's wrong?"

His eyes opened and saw Rachel's lustful eyes peering at him. Why had he stopped? His head pierced in pain. Oh, God, not now. It was an almost nonexistent pain so he pushed it away. He wasn't going to let memories get in the way.

"A little gun-shy, are we? Not what I expected from Tony Stark."

He shook his head, stepping back. Something was wrong. It didn't feel right like it had earlier. Another pierce. "Rachel, I-"

Before he could get anything else out, Rachel's soft lips reached his and he was the one pressed up against the wall. It happened so fast and he was so dazed from the attack that his eyes didn't catch the bedroom door open.

Jarvis alerted Steve when Tony arrived home. He paused for a moment, trying not to admit to himself that he'd been waiting up for the other to get home. No, that wasn't the reason. He just... wasn't tired yet. Yep, sure, that was it. And, hey, why not get up to see how the charity thing went for Tony? He decided that was what he was going to do, so he slowly headed for the bedroom door, thinking Tony might want to rant and rave about the idiots that just wouldn't stop talking to him, or something like that. It was usually something after an event like this. "Hey," he called just as he stepped out, glancing down the hall. "I thought I heard-"

He stopped. The small smile that had been on his face vanished and he felt like his heart stuttered, in the worst way, for just a moment. "What..." he blinked, eyes on Tony, and the woman that was pressed against him. Against Tony. Against his Tony. His husband.

Rachel pulled back, glancing over her shoulder when she heard someone. Her eyes glanced over Steve's body before she turned back to Tony, pressing him further against the wall. Whatever, it wasn't like the other guy mattered. "Tony-" she whispered, leaning in again, but he was shaking his head.

"No, no," Tony mumbled, head pounding. "Stop…"

Steve. Oh, God, Steve...what am I doing? What the hell am I doing?! "Rachel, I need you to go."

"What?" the young woman seemed flabbergasted that she was being turned down. She clenched his wrists and Tony yanked them away, wincing. "Tony-"

"Get out!" he held a hand to his head, vision swimming.

"He told you to leave." Steve's voice was angrier than he had ever heard of it. He wasn't sure if it was directed at him or Rachel. Probably both...equally. And at the tone, Rachel did leave, snatching up her purse and leaving with a scowl. Tony sighed in relief and squeezed his eyes shut. "Tony."

"I'm sorry."

"Tony, are you drunk?" He flinched at the words, recalling Steve asking him that in the bar a few weeks ago on that horrible night.

"Yes, I'm drunk. Steve, I'm so sorry. I really am. I didn't-" Steve just helped him up and he looked at him with confused eyes. "Why aren't you yelling at me?"

Steve's jaw flexed. "Because that wouldn't be fair."

"But it would! I know that I'm married and it's wrong that I almost did. Be pissed, Steve. I deserve it!" Tony hissed at him, and the large man plopped him down on the bed. "Steve!"

The silence was enough to drive him crazy. Steve just stared at him; eyes filled with so much hurt it made Tony's heart clench and twist. Then he left and closed the door behind him. Tony jumped up with his head spinning and let out a strangled cry. He whirled around, looking for something, anything, to throw in his anger. His eyes landed to the picture frame on the nightstand. The wedding picture. The same one that had been in that cursed box in the hospital. The one that had given him the memory of the actual wedding. His eyes blurred and he gripped the wooden picture frame, the smiling faces looking accusingly at him. He gripped it until his fingers went white and he threw it to the floor. He heard the crack of glass breaking, and tears started to stream down his cheeks. He collapsed onto the bed and did nothing to stop them.

When Steve left the room, he just stood outside the door for a moment, one hand pressed to his eyes as he took a deep breath. Should have gone with him. Idiot got drunk. Idiot, idiot, idiot... he thought, before he finally walked away. He vaguely heard the breaking of glass, but he just couldn't bring himself to turn around and find out what that was. No, he didn't want to see Tony right now. As he finally just wandered into the kitchen, he felt an ache in his chest, the sight of that woman pressing herself against Tony seeming to be all he could think about.

Face it. He'd rather go out and find a stranger instead of getting to know you again. Doesn't want you, he found himself thinking, fingers gripping the countertop so hard his hands actually hurt. Not going to want you again. But that wasn't fair. Tony was his, and he was Tony's. They weren't supposed to go out and do that with other people. No, no, no...

For how long he stood at the counter, he didn't know. Eventually, he realized someone else was there.

"Steve?" Bruce blinked tiredly, taking in the man's rigid posture and absolutely anguished expression. "I heard commotion. Things okay?"

"Tony brought home a girl. They didn't do anything, but...I think they were going to." Steve closed his eyes and inhaled shakily. "What am I going to do?"

"Nothing." Bruce said crossly.

"What?"

"Don't do anything, Steve. Not yet. Tony needs to work this out. He needs to decide what he wants to do. Stay with you and take it day by day, or move on."

Move on? "Like leave me?" He didn't need to Bruce to answer to know what he meant. His breath quickened. Life without Tony? He couldn't bear it. "I...I need to get out of here for a while, Bruce. I need a break."

Bruce nodded, and then said hesitantly, "I wasn't going to mention this before, but Fury called earlier."

"Fury called?" Steve repeated, before he nodded just slightly. "Okay. I... I am going to call him back." With that he was suddenly fleeing the room, and Bruce couldn't help but think he saw tears in Steve's eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

Steve wasn't sure what convinced him to call the director. The guy probably was going to explode. They hadn't exchanged any words since the nuke incident, giving the solider some space. But...maybe he had a mission. How odd it was that he was now aching to leave instead of the other way around. Steve slumped into a chair into the empty and dark conference room and dialed Fury. He answered on the second ring.

"It's Captain America."

"Rogers. I'm surprised you hadn't just ignored my call."

Steve didn't answer.

"So Natasha filled me in on what's going on with Stark. What's his status now?"

"He's...better." Physically, anyway. "Fury, what is this about?"

"Your act with the nuke has caused SHIELD to question your ability to work on the field. When something like this happens, we send agents on solo missions to test their skills. You'll be in surveillance whenever possible for our scanners. Should be quick on easy, if the mission doesn't escalate at all." Fury explained. "If you know, your feelings don't get in the way at all."

"I'm capable, sir," Steve said simply. No, he would use this mission as a way to deal. It would help him forget about his feelings and shit with Tony for right now.

"Better damn well be capable," Fury snapped. "Files with the mission details are being sent over. Be prepared to leave tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir."

With that, the call canceled out. Steve sighed and ran a hand through his blonde hair, and glanced at it his watch. 2 AM. Christ, was it really that late? He sat up and started to head to his room to at least catch some sleep before he left.

"Steve?" Bruce again. The scientist's face was worried. "Steve, what did Fury say?"

"He's sending me on a solo mission." he frowned. "I leave tomorrow morning."

"Seriously? I...are you sure that..." he seemed to struggle for the right words.

"I can do it, Bruce." Steve snapped. "I need to take a break anyway. This is a good opportunity. Wait...Bruce, did you talk to Tony?"

"Pretty one sided conversation." the scientist muttered.

"Of course it was. He never talks to anyone when he makes a mistake." Steve retorted.

"No, Steve, it's not like that. I mean...he was crying."

Steve stopped. "Crying?" he murmured with a frown. Tony had been crying?

"Sobbing," Bruce muttered. He'd never seen his friend quite like that before. "He... He was pretty upset, Steve."

Well he didn't know what he was supposed to do about that. "He'll be fine," he finally mumbled, knowing he wouldn't be able to see Tony right now. No, he couldn't.

If the circumstances were different, Steve would have rushed to Tony's room and held him close until he stopped crying. There would be no second thought to it. Though, Tony didn't just cry that much. Or at all really. 3 times Steve had seen Tony cry. Each time had been painful. Now his husband was crying, and he couldn't do anything if he wanted to. And he didn't. "I have to go to bed. Getting up early to do the research and warmed up before I leave."

Bruce didn't get a chance to answer before Steve was gone.

******

Tony came to feeling like the world had crashed down on him. His limbs were heavy and his head ached. His eyes felt cracked from his crying. Indistinctly, he recalled Bruce talking to him, but nothing else.

He heaved his body out of bed and realized he was still in his dress clothes, and that it was close to 1 in the afternoon. Damn. Grimacing, he threw off the clothing and put on a black AC/DC t-shirt and jeans. Much better. Now to dose up on coffee and retreat to his lab to figure out what the fuck to do next about Steve.

The kitchen was nearly empty, if it weren't for Clint sitting on the counter mug in hand. "Mornin'." He mumbled in greeting to the archer.

Clint raised an eyebrow. "Afternoon. You look like shit."

"Touché, bird brain. By the way, where's Steve?"

"No one told you?"

"Told me what?"

Clint looked a little uncomfortable. "Took a mission," he muttered into his mug, eyes watching Tony carefully. "Going to be gone for a while."

"Gone?" Tony couldn't help but consider this to be his fault. He kept pushing at Steve, until finally, the man broke, went away at a moment that Tony honestly didn't want him to. He wanted to apologize. He wanted Steve to know how sorry he was about last night. No, he wasn't sure just how he was going to say sorry yet, he wasn't sure how to talk about it, but did want to apologize. "Any word on when he returns?"

"Like I said... gonna be gone for a while." This was all messed up. Steve couldn't have picked a worse time to get fed up with Tony (partly his own fault, not that he'd admit it). Who knew when Steve would be back? Days? Weeks? He swore under his breath and slammed his hand onto the table.

"Didn't think you'd be so upset about it. You've been avoiding him." Clint remarked. "And it sounds like last night you really couldn't give a damn about Steve."

Tony's anger flared. "I was going to tell him, Clint! Everything! The memories and...and that I may be falling in love again without me knowing it because of my memories...and that the stunt yesterday was just a mistake! I was going to fix it."

"You'll just have to wait then."

Clint's too calm voice made Tony throw up his hands in annoyance. "If you need me, I'll be talking to Fury about the mission that he decided to keep on the down low and give him a piece of my mind."

Tony stomped to the conference lab and dialed Fury. The director's face appeared on the holoscreen and Tony regarded him with a glare.

"Stark. You're a sight for sore eyes."

"What the hell, Fury? You called Rogers out without a notice." Tony growled.

"See the funny thing is that the married Tony would act like this. But for solo Tony? What's your problem?"

There was a pause before Fury spoke again. "Change of heart, Stark?"

"That doesn't matter right now," Tony huffed, not wanting to admit that maybe the director was right. "Where'd you send him?"

"I'm afraid that information is classified."

"I don't give a damn! Where did you ship him off to? I have a right to-"

Fury interrupted. "If it was meant for you to know, then Captain Rogers would have told you himself. I'm sorry, Stark. Clearly your husband wanted some time to clear his head and take a job without you interfering."

Tony paused, hands clenching at his sides as he took a deep breath. "Fine," he snapped. "At least tell me when he'll be back."

"That's all up to Rogers. Depends on how quickly he completes the job."

*********

Steve did feel guilty about leaving Tony. He really did. He just also felt an undying relief too. Dealing with Tony was just too difficult right now and he couldn't imagine what to say to him about the girl, or about anything. They weren't going anywhere. Tony was denying that he was remembering things even though it was getting to the point of obvious, and Steve was left shaking his shoulders and practically begging the man to open up so that he could see what was going on inside that damn man's head.

So he set his entire focus on the mission. He read every single piece of file on it. Not a single sentence left out. He couldn't afford that again. The mission? Locate and apprehend Dean Holmes, a Brazilian spy taking shelter deep into South America after being tracked for months by SHIELD after the system was hacked. Careful as the man was, sensitive information being leaked wasn't going to be taken lightly and left without extreme security measures. It actually didn't seem that bad.

Of course, whenever Steve told himself that it turned out the opposite. Christ, the screwed up mission felt like a lifetime ago.

*********

Despite Fury telling him to leave Steve alone, Tony tried contacting him. He knew the man would have his phone; for some reason he just knew that Steve would, and Tony knew that he had talked to Steve before when he'd gone out of previous missions. How he knew that, he wasn't sure. He just did.

But, of course, he received no reply from the man. His attempts to communicate we're ignored, leaving him annoyed and panicking. Shit. He felt like he had to speak to Steve. He had to tell him he was sorry... Or at least to be careful on this damn mission!

Talking to Fury just annoyed him even more. The director wasn't helping, merely because he refused to pass along any sort of message to Steve. Said the captain needed to focus. Well, Tony understood that, he really did... But it didn't make it any less frustrating to hear.

********

Steve knew Tony was trying to contact him. He knew he wanted to talk, and yet, he just ignored it. There was a part of him screaming to pick up the phone or something, because Tony was wanting to talk to him, but then again, he couldn't. He had taken this mission to get away and to clear his head and he didn't want to hear something from Tony that would distract him right now. No, this mission had to go perfectly.

Steve gripped the phone tightly in his hand and then shoved it into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He was suited up, but without the cowl to seem more friendly to the locals of the town. The files said that they were friendlies, but if provoked they won't be within a split second. The helicopter that had taken him from the plane that waiting overhead the skies landed him at the edge of the city. He could see the ramshackle houses and goats and a long dusty road.

The deep south of Brazil was an assortment of mostly abandoned homes and a tiny village that lived in squalor. Only a few children ran about, and at the sight of him dodged to the alleys and looked at him suspicious, cautious eyes. Women did not meet his gaze, and men either glared at him or regarded him with a warning look, muttering something in Spanish. At least he thought it was Spanish.

The house at the end of the town Fury had told him to go for information to investigate where the man was hiding from SHIELD. He kept walking. He kept up an expressionless face and gave small smiles to those who did glance at him. Still, though, there was a tense feeling in the air. He doubted they got many visitors. The house at the end of the town was probably the most destroyed looking house. The shutters creaked as if just a breeze would knock them down, white paint peeled off the walls, and cracks were in the closed door.

He knocked. "Hello? Sir, I'm with SHIELD. They told me that you had information regarding someone we're looking for. No harm will come to you or your town, I promise. It's an in and out mission." _Please speak English._

"Aye, you American folks so formal. Got any goods for me, young man?" a voice echoed out through the house. "Ain't getting nothing out here. I know American folks have lots of better things up there, yeah?"

"I have some bread and rum, sir. As you requested." Steve said. "But it has to be reliable information."

"'Course, young man!" The door swung open to reveal a ragged man in his mid-sixties with a straggly grayish brown beard. "I is the Wanderer. I see all, know all. No one escapes from my sight. I know where everyone is!"

"Do you know where Dean Holmes is, then?"

"Dean Holmes? Yes, yes," the man stepped back motioning for Steve to step into the house. "I tell you, I see all. I know all."

Steve stepped in through the door, glancing around the tiny room he had entered. It was small, that was for sure, and sparely furnished. The place was dark, too, with heavy, dusty curtains that seemed to block out much of the natural light that would normally come into the room.

"You needs information, no?" The man closed the door and then turned back to Steve.

"Yes. Dean Holmes-"

"Yes, I tell you where Holmes be. Holmes is close, he is. Now, bring the bread and rum to the kitchen..." The man motioned for Steve to follow, and so the soldier complied, knowing he had to do it to get the information he needed.

"Put them there," the man directed him, and Steve placed the package on top of the rotting wooden table. "The Wanderer" stroked his beard for a second, speculating the box before unlatching it and taking a piece. "Oh, good. All here. Wouldn't want a double cross, would we?" he smiled crookedly.

"Of course not, sir." Steve nodded. "And now the whereabouts of Dean Holmes?"

"Dangerous water to tread...say, young man, might I have a name for yous? Can't be impolite, can we?"

"I'm Captain America." he watched as the man's lips slithered into a thin smile.

"That so. Well, at least I be trusting you with good reasons, yes? Loyal Captain of America..." he sighed. "Captain, Mr. Holmes ain't be the best of men. Sneaky, he is. Fancy technology. Don't be going too easy on him, or he'll shoot you dead!"

"Don't worry, sir, I'm trained to do this."

"Hmm. Well, then listen here. Mr. Holmes is across the river that separates our little town and the outskirts of the jungle, yeah? A house lodged where the trees start. You find him easy. Getting him out will be hard part." the man glanced around. "Getting antsy out there about you hiding out in here."

"That's all I need. Thank you." Steve didn't get another word out before the man ushered him out of the house. Steve spotted the river immediately, and began his search. But he couldn't shake sickening feeling in his stomach from the second he walked into the house and spoke to the old man.

*******

As soon as the door closed, the Wandered pulled out a cellphone, fresh from his employer, and punched in the said numbers. "He's headed to you now."

_"Very good. Is it another SHIELD agent like the others?"_ the deep husky voice crackled over the line.

"No, mister, it's Captain America. Tell Mr. Holmes that he better stock up on his defense, or he be a goner."

_"Captain America?" his employer growled. "You're sure." ___

__"Yes."_ _

__There was a long pause as this seemed to register. _"This won't delay anything. I have a plan." And the line went dead.__ _

__*****_ _

__Well, even if he didn't really like the strange feeling the man had given him, Steve still needed to find Dean Holmes. He approached the river, trampling high weeds as he headed for the bank. Naturally, there was no bridge across, so it looked like he'd have to swim. Grimacing, he made sure the belongings he had were secured and properly wrapped, so that they wouldn't get soaking wet from his trip across the river, and then he set off._ _

__"Holy shit," he grumbled- the water was fucking freezing! Thankfully, though, the current wasn't too strong, and he made it across without any problems. Still, though, it left him chilled and he immediately dealt with changing his wet gear. Walking around in that wouldn't be good at a time like this. Steve stripped off his soaking gear and threw on the SHIELD issued body suit that he was "required" to keep in hand at all times while on missions like these. At least it did come in handy for once._ _

__He rounded the river and crouched into shrubbery so he could look for the house. Or really, a sign of anything other than the natural appearances of the jungle. Already, sweat matted his hair and the dry suit felt uncomfortable on his back. Ugh. He hated the jungle. Finally, though, part of a house packed with wood and mud stuck out from the green foliage. He crept forward, looking for movement. There wasn't any. The only movement was the rustle of the trees and the only sound was a faint screech of a bird. Again, he got closer. Still nothing. There wasn't any glass where the windows should be in front of the tiny shack, just a tattered curtain, and no light could be seen._ _

__Maybe the guy was just off guard? Surely he hadn't determined that SHIELD could possibly find him way out here. There was no cameras, no visible booby traps (and he knew what took look for, mind you). So he positioned his shield in front of him, gripped the gun from his holster, and kicked the door open._ _

__Whom he recognized as Dean Holmes stared at him drunkenly from his laid out form on the floor. "Well. Whaddya know. SHIELD's smarter than they seem. Hiya, Captain Americaaaaa..." he slurred, and held out his arms. "I'd like to surrender because I like how my face looks, thanks...very much."_ _

__For a moment, Steve just stood there. His eyes scanned the room for any immediate sign of danger before zeroing in on his target once more. Well this... wasn't what he had expected. It was easy. Almost too easy? he heard a voice in the back of his mind saying. "Surrender?" he finally muttered, eyes narrowing._ _

__"Well, uhh, yes," Holmes slurred, beginning an attempt to stand. "You do know what the word means, yes? I'm hoping SHIELD, ah..." he paused, eyes narrowing before he finally climbed to his feet, "trained you well, Cap-i-tan." He sort of laughed at that, swaying slightly as he stood there._ _

__Steve held out a pair of thick, built-in-taser handcuffs. "Dean Holmes, you're under arrest with the jurisdiction of SHIELD."_ _

__Dean Holmes scoffed and clumsily held out his arms. "Yessir."_ _

__Hesitantly, Steve turned the man around and placed the handcuffs on the man's wrist. "Come with me." he pulled out his comm, "This is Captain America. I have Holmes. Can you bring down the helicopter?"_ _

__"Be right there," a different voice than the pilot's. Steve's stomach clenched in uneasiness. Something wasn't right. His body stiffened and he gripped Holmes's arm with a good force and waited in the clearing for the sound of the helicopter._ _

__*******_ _

__"Do you think he'll call?" Tony asked as he walked into the living room, eyes wide as he spotted Bruce and Clint standing there._ _

__Clint sighed, looking at his friend. "Who knows, Iron Asshole. You hurt him. He probably wants some time without having to worry about your shit." He got a look from Bruce, but he just shrugged, knowing he was right. Bruce knew it, too._ _

__Tony glared at Clint. "I'm trying to fix this."_ _

__"And you're doing a fantastic job, Stark. What, did you come to your senses and suddenly decide that you love Steve again? Or are you just guilty?" Clint snapped._ _

__"I..." Tony didn't have a good answer. He felt something for Steve, a desire, maybe, but he couldn't figure out what it meant and if it was real or just a figment of his screwed up imagination. "I'm not sure yet."_ _

__Bruce's eyes scanned over Tony. "Steve's pretty angry, Tony. And hurt. It's going to take a while. He's not going to forgive you right away this time."_ _

__"I know that!" Tony fumed. "But I have something to tell him." he zeroed in Clint._ _

__"You've got to be fucking kidding me. That's what it took, huh? To man up and face your insecurities?" Clint growled angrily, advancing in on Tony. "I have busting my ass protecting you the past few weeks. I kept hoping you'd tell everyone yourself. But you're not, are you? You're going to keep hiding, and keep telling yourself that you'll tell everyone but you won't because you're scared!"_ _

__"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Bruce demanded. "Tony, what's wrong? What are you hiding?"_ _

__Tony gritted his teeth at the archer and whipped around. "Why don't you just ask Barton? He knows everything."_ _

__"Nope. No." Clint held both of his hands up and stepped back, shaking his head. "I'm not gonna deal with your shit anymore, Stark. You're my friend, but it's time you suck it up and deal with it! Tell Bruce yourself. Stop being such a fucking baby about it." With that, the archer stormed out of the room, muttering something about going to the range to shoot for a while._ _

__Bruce blinked, expression turning from confused to concerned as he again looked at Tony. "What the hell is he talking about?" he sighed. "You've been hiding things?"_ _

__"Look, just..." Tony took a step back as if he might try to flee from the room, but then he stopped. "I've been remembering some stuff, okay? I'll be doing something and then just have this.. this vivid episode."_ _

__"In which Master Stark's heart rate rapidly elevates and movement is stalled until the memory passes," Jarvis interjected, causing Tony to let out an annoyed sound. Okay, did the AI have to reveal that? Now he was going to have the doctor on his ass about it!_ _

__"Tony." Bruce just sighed, shaking his head. " _Tony._ You can't keep these things to yourself."_ _

__"I didn't really want to. I wanted to tell you guys. But I guess I tried to pull off another Tony Stark and do it by myself. Now everything's fucked up, like usual." he slumped into a kitchen chair._ _

__"And the memories? Are you...?"_ _

__"They're pretty random. It's hard to decipher them sometimes. Sometimes I remember Steve, the missions, you and the rest of the team..." his voice trailed off._ _

__Bruce paused, contemplating. "When was the first memory?"_ _

__Tony thought back, squinting. "In the hospital, when I was looking through the pictures and things in the box. Remember that?"_ _

__"Yeah. Steve mentioned that you had acted a little off when you touched one of the pictures." Bruce got closer to Tony. "But it's gotten worse hasn't it?"_ _

__Tony nodded slowly. "Each time, they hurt more and sometimes they last longer. I haven't tested it, but I don't know how long I'd be out on the floor without someone snapping me out of it."_ _

__Bruce's lips pursed. "What about emotionally? How do you feel?"_ _

__"Weird," Tony admitted. "The more I remember about Steve, the stronger this...feeling in my gut gets. I think..." he drew in a breath. "I think I kind of...subconsciously love him...or whatever. But then it goes away and I'm just me, with no one to love. It switches, it hurts, and I don't know what to do."_ _

__"I'll tell you what you have to do. As soon as Steve gets back, you're going to tell him what you've told me." Bruce said firmly, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'm serious."_ _

__"Yeah," Tony muttered. That was what he was afraid of. With Steve already mad at him, he wasn't sure how the man would react to Tony saying he had been hiding these memories from him._ _

__"I'm serious," Bruce said again, tone firm. "Steve will want to help you, okay? That's all he has ever wanted to do from the beginning, and you need to learn to accept that. The old Tony may not be used to it, but the new Tony is. Keep that in mind, because it's going to benefit you in the end."_ _

__"Okay. I will." Tony sighed heavily._ _

__"First things first. I need you to promise me that you'll inform JARVIS as soon as you get a headache, you hear me?" Bruce ordered._ _

__"JARVIS has already instructed Clint to come."_ _

__"Clint isn't a certified doctor, now is he?" Bruce asked, putting his hands on his hips._ _

__"Yeah, well. Clint still helps," Tony muttered._ _

__"I mean it. JARVIS is to alert me. Understand?" Bruce said in that stern voice. "I don't want you getting hurt if you have an episode."_ _

__Grumbling, he nodded. "Got it."_ _

__"Good," The doctor sighed quietly, looking over at his friend. "Thank you, Tony."_ _

__******_ _

__Waiting for the helicopter was an uneasy experience. Steve didn't say much as he kept his eye on Holmes, trying to shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. What was that about? He had his target right here.. No reason to be so worried, right?_ _

__Well. He hoped not._ _

__Finally, the helicopter arrived, landing in the clearing nearby. Steve gripped Holmes by the arm, leading him towards it. "Let's go," he stated, eyes narrowing as he focused on the man in the chopper. Hm. He didn't recognize him._ _

__Boarding the helicopter, Steve sat Holmes down on a bench in the back and watched as the "drunken" man looked increasingly sober. Steve's stomach churned. Something was very, very wrong. But there wasn't any time to dwell on it. The blades of the helicopter began thumping air, so Steve held on and continued to watch his target closely. Holmes moved his head slowly and grinned almost manically at Steve._ _

__Thankfully, the helicopter ride was short and a smaller plane would fly them to the helicarrier. But the air strip was eerily silent. There were no workers even in midday, equipment laid about. He frowned and looked to the pilot._ _

__"Lunch break," he shrugged. The helicopter descended onto the strip, and Steve yanked Holmes up again and steered him out of the helicopter._ _

__The smaller airplane was waiting for them, and the pilot unstrapped himself from the cockpit of the helicopter and headed to the plane. "You're piloting the plane, too?"_ _

__"We're short today." he shrugged. "SHIELD is busy."_ _

__SHIELD is busy, Steve repeated in his head. Well of course they were busy, but he'd never seen a place so deserted like this. His eyes narrowed, but he told himself not to say anything. No time to focus on that. He just needed to get the target to the secure location. Gripping his arm, Steve led Holmes onto the small plane, again ignoring the maniacal grin the man gave him._ _

__As he watched the pilot get settled, he couldn't help but notice the slight raise of eyebrows he gave when he looked to Holmes. Almost as if they were communicating something, he thought._ _

__What the hell was going on here? Were they actually trying to tell each other something?_ _

__Frowning, he tried to calm the funny feeling in his gut as the plane finally took off, with Holmes still grinning like an absolute maniac from his seat. "What?" Steve finally snapped, eyes narrowed at him._ _

__Steve didn't get answer. The plane took off. And Steve was feeling no better._ _

__"Rogers. Rogers, come in." The black box crackled with Fury's voice. He frowned. What happened to his comm? He pulled it out of his ear and found that it was off. What the hell? The signal must have been cut off. Otherwise it would have just made a static noise._ _

__"Pilot, can you answer it?" He called out. "Pilot?"_ _

__The pilot didn't move. Holmes started laughing, and the sound sent a shiver down Steve's spine._ _

__"If you can hear me, Rogers, get off the plane now!" Fury ordered from the radio. Steve looked suspiciously from Holmes to the pilot. The pilot looked over his shoulder at him and smirked. It was just as maniacal as Holmes's grin._ _

__"Who are you? What do you want?"_ _

__The pilot stood, and the plane jerked dangerously. Steve's heart froze. Literally._ _

__A couple of hours after his talk with Bruce, Tony fell asleep in his lab, and he regretted it. He slept dreamlessly, but when he woke, his head was /throbbing/. It'd been a few days since the last episode, and it seemed that it was back with a vengeance. He knew he was supposed to have JARVIS call for Bruce now, but his tongue felt swollen and he couldn't speak. He was too drowsy from sleep and his mind wasn't fully comprehending that he needed /stop thinking/ because it hurt and honestly Tony didn't want to remember anything. Not now._ _

__Steve couldn't move. He felt rooted to the spot, heart beating rapidly as the plane jerked again._ _

__"It was a pleasure, Captain Americaaa," Holmes laughed, turning as the pilot easily dismantled the handcuffs he had on his wrists. It was then that Steve realized Holmes was grabbing a parachute, but before he could move to stop him, the plane trembled again._ _

__"Like I said. Pleasure." There was suddenly a roaring noise as the small door opened on the side, and Holmes went sailing over the edge with the chute. The pilot smirked before doing the same._ _

__At that point, Steve didn't even care that the target had gotten away. He was suddenly scrambling to find a parachute, but quickly realized there weren't any others. Shit. The plane shifted downwards forcefully and he grimaced before darting to the pilot seat, not knowing what else to do._ _

__Steve felt like he was in a horrible dream. Artic...Peggy...Tesseract...plane...ice...ICE...NO. This time was different. The plane wasn't damaged, and he could land it. Hopefully. And there was no ice. Just a field of jungle. That helped somehow. His hands shook as he gripped the control panels, and pressed the button to the black box. "Fury, its Rogers. Come in. Do you copy?"_ _

__"Schhhh...hear you...scchhhhh...land...plane?" He struggled to hear the director._ _

__"I can probably land the plane." But right as the words slipped out, he was thrown forward as there was a loud explosion and the plane trembled and shook with tremendous force. His ears rang. "Shit!"_ _

__He dared to look over his shoulder and he felt all color drain from his face. A gaping, smoldering hole was taking up most of the space of the back of the plane now. There must have been a bomb planted. Objects began to fly out, sucked out with a rush of intense air. The wind thundered in his ears, and he stood from his seat, holding on for dear life to examine the damage. His stomach churned as he studied the back and looked back at the panel. A blaring red light signaled "Engine fail". Multiple other warnings blinked at him. So much for landing it, then. He'd try his best, but there wasn't much luck for a safe one._ _

__He really hated planes._ _

__He hesitantly sat back down in the pilot's chair, threw on his cowl to help cover his head from any shards, and held the controls again. The black box was totaled, only giving off static. He'd have to do this alone._ _

__Well, no way Captain America was going to die in a plane crash again, he promised himself. His body shuddered along with the plane as they made a fast downward drop to the surface below. It wouldn't be long now. He pulled back the controls to his stomach, but it was useless. There was absolutely no manual control left. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, because he didn't want to see the world rushing up to him again, even if it was greener. Just like last time, he tried to keep his calm. But one thing kept bugging him._ _

__He really lamented not picking up his phone when Tony called._ _

__******_ _

__"Agent Barton," Jarvis spoke, as he was still under the orders to alert Clint of an episode. "Mr. Stark is in need of your assistance."_ _

__Clint looked up, just as Bruce walked in. "Come on. Tony needs us."_ _

__Tony was just about writhing on the ground when Bruce and Clint arrived in the lab. Clint didn't even get a chance to call out to Tony before Bruce was at the man's side. When Bruce looked up from Tony's face, his eyes were tinted green. "He didn't say he was having body tremors like this."_ _

__"It wasn't as bad as this before," Clint murmured quietly, frowning. "Tony! Tony, wake up!"_ _

__Bruce shook Tony's shoulder. "Tony? Tony, can you hear me?"_ _

__Tony didn't have time to register that he was slipping until it was too late._ _

___"But Steve, I want to wear a white tux for the wedding. C'mon, you know that-"_ _ _

___"Please, Tony. We know what white stands for in a wedding and we both know that when it comes to you..." Steve turned around, trying to keep his expression serious. He was failing though: a small, amused smile was slipping across his lips. "Purity isn't exactly one of your virtues."_ _ _

___"Well, it would at least be a good laugh for the guests."_ _ _

___Steve chuckled. "It would be."_ _ _

__Tony writhed on the floor, flashes of memory making him unable to respond to Bruce or Clint. They changed rapidly, coming and going without any of his control._ _

____"Tony, focus! You need to help pick out the flowers." Pepper was saying._  
Flash.  
 _"Hey, I just want some chocolate on the cake."_  
Flash.  
 _"The honeymoon? Well, you and I both know what'll happen there." Pulling Steve in for a kiss, grinning when he shamelessly groped him._  
Flash.  
 _"I love you."_  
Flash.  
 _"Tony, we should talk about kids."__  
"Kids?"  
"I want a family."  
"With me?"  
"With you."   
Flash. Flash. Flash. 

__Gasping, he suddenly snapped out of it, eyes focusing on Bruce and Clint who were peering at him with worried expressions._ _

__******_ _

__The ground was approaching fast, but Steve still refused to watch. He tried to distract himself from the fucking plane that was crashing, trying to think about Tony._ _

___Tony grinning at him across the dinner table._  
Tony smiling at him when he came home from a mission, face lighting up like he'd just received the best gift in the world.  
Tony leaning in for a kiss.  
Tony saying "Steve." Saying "I love you."  
Tony's cheeks flushing as they curled together in bed. 

___Tony, Tony, Tony..._ _ _

__The plane gave a horrible jerk and Steve's stomach clenched as he braced himself. It was about to-_ _

__There was the jarring feeling of impact, a crippling flash of pain, and then everything went dark._ _


	14. Oppurtunities (That I May Not Take)

When Steve came to, his head was pounding furiously and his leg felt useless. It felt broken. He swallowed bile. It was loud. There was shouting and furious swearing. He opened his eyes. Or, at least, tried to. One eye felt sealed shut. He couldn't open it. He could feel blood dripping down his face.

More shouting. He maneuvered his head and realized that he had been dragged out of the plane and was lying in the grass.

There was a SHIELD agent lying on the ground a few feet away, but he couldn't tell if she was alive or not. He teetered dangerously on the verge of awareness, but then he saw Holmes and the pilot yelling at each other.

"Idiot! You said the plane had crashed miles from here!"

As Holmes defended himself, Steve tried to get up, rolling onto his stomach and suspending himself into a push up. His arms shook, and his consciousness wavered again. But he stumbled, painfully, to his feet. His broken leg protested, and he struggled to keep his weight on one leg. He limped to the fallen SHIELD member, carefully sitting down beside her and checking her pulse. She was alive. Unconscious, but alive.

He took her gun from the holster, breathing heavily, and got up again. Every muscle in his body protested. He took a step forward, and then another. Still, the two men were too distracted with each other to notice. He turned off the safety of the gun and raised it. He positioned it the best he could to Holmes's shin, and pulled the trigger.

It hit his thigh. Well, close enough. He felt a wave of dizziness, and he swayed.

Right as the pilot started running toward him, right as he raised the gun, his finger on the trigger, his vision went black and Steve was falling again.

******

Tony shuddered violently, wrapping his arms around himself and rolled onto his side.

"Tony? Are you okay? Tony!" Bruce was demanding for some reaction that he was lucid.

Tony's eyes watered, pathetically, as the memories of the wedding came to him consciously. It wasn't fair. He wanted that back. That /feeling./ Goddammit, he wanted to love Steve again. Maybe he did already. He wasn't sure. "'S not fair."

"What?"

"Fuck. Fuck it all." Tony grunted and staggered to his feet, facing Clint and Bruce. "I swear to God, If I don't talk to Steve soon, I'm gonna go insane. And I can't believe I just said that."

Clint and Bruce both watched Tony, eyebrows raised and arms ready in case the man were to fall over- he sure as hell looked like he might. Clint sort of laughed, giving a small shrug. "Hey, maybe Steve will call later."

"Yeah, right," Tony grumbled as he found something to sit on. Steve was pissed at him and wanted to get away. Clint had reminded him of that not too long ago. That was the whole reason he had taken this damn mission in the first place, right? Still, though, a part of him was hoping that the archer was right and Steve would call...

"Tony," Bruce cleared his throat. "Why don't we go upstairs? You're still too shaken up to get any work done down here anyways." For once, Tony couldn't find the energy to protest, and was silent as the three of them left the lab. They were just sitting down in the living room when Jarvis spoke.

"Sir, you have a call coming through."

Tony grumbled, wrapping his arms around himself with every intention to sit here and pout. "Ignore it."

"I do believe it is essential for you to answer this call, sir," the AI quipped back immediately. "Director Fury is on the line, and it is urgent."

********

Pain.

That was the only thing Steve could register for a while. He slipped in and out of consciousness, but never long enough to fully grasp where he was or who the people around him were. At some point he felt a mask over his face- what was this, oxygen?- and he realized he must have been found. By who? Well, he didn't know. When he finally managed to stay conscious for more than a few seconds of a time, the only thing Steve's fuzzy brain could comprehend was that he was in a hospital of some sort.

How the hell did he get here?

Who had him?

*******

Tony felt numb. He almost passed out right on the couch when Fury started to explain. How the mission had gone awry, the fucking plane crashed and...Steve had completed it all the same. Both men had been apprehended after Steve injured them with a SHIELD gun he had taken off a fallen agent. He'd been relieved to hear that, because that meant Steve was coming home and they could talk and try to figure out all this shit.

Then Fury had gone on to how Steve had been injured. His voice went grim and serious and Tony knew that tone. That's what made him almost relapse into yet another memory. Clint had pinched him and told him that he had to stay awake. So Tony did.

Steve had a nasty concussion, two fractured vertebrates in his lower back, and a broken leg. He'd gone into shock on the way to the SHIELD helicarrier infirmary while being airlifted and is now in critical condition until-

Critical...critical...

"Tony, he's going to be okay." Bruce kept telling him on the way to the helicarrier. Tony wouldn't believe him until he saw Steve and got to look at him. And talk to him.

"You're acting like Steve when you had your accident, you know that?" Clint snorted, gripping his shoulder in comfort. "And he'll be fine, just like you are now."

"I'm not fine," Tony said under his breath, but it apparently wasn't as quiet as he hoped because he could feel their concerned gazes on him. He really, really needed to talk with Steve.

"Aw, come on, man," Clint was trying to lighten the situation as he gently slapped Tony on the shoulder. "Steve's gonna be fine. And what do you mean you're not? Of course you are. We're-"

"Shut the fuck up," Tony snapped angrily. That seemed to be enough to make the archer stop talking, and then Tony was silent, too. When he boarded the helicarrier he realized that he was shaking, until Bruce moved to gently squeeze his arm.

"Hey. Just calm down, okay?"

Tony felt at least a little of the tension ease at Bruce's reassuring squeeze. His hands still trembled slightly, but he followed Bruce and Clint around the helicarrier. Everything seemed hazy, because the helicarrier was familiar but /not./ He's seen it in some of his flashbacks. He has seen, even just a small amount, the destruction, the rebuilding, and the meetings with Fury.

But he has no idea where he's going, so he kept his head down and tried to ignore his headache.

They stopped at the beginning of a long hallway, where a row of chairs sat in a row. Wordlessly, Tony sat down and Clint beside him. Neither of them said anything.

Tony doesn't know how long they wait. He's so out of it and lost in his own trail of thoughts it could have been minutes, hours. But when he looks up, the lights are brighter and there's no light from the windows. He shook his head slightly to get rid of the daze and twisted his back to get out the cranks of the uncomfortable chair. There was a cup of coffee on a little table next to him. Huh. When had that gotten there? He sipped it, and sighed in content from the refreshing liquid. Clint cleared his throat, Tony suddenly remembering that he was there and saw Bruce heading towards them. What had he been doing? "Hear anything?"

"He's stable. It wasn't as bad as they first assumed. If all goes well, he should make a full and fast recovery." Tony felt relief wash over him like a tide. Bruce pointed at one of the closest rooms. "He just got out of surgery that repaired his leg and back. He'll be out for a while."

Tony went in anyway. Bruce and Clint had the decency not to follow him. Steve was incredibly pale, more than usual, and there was a small bandage over his brow and cheek. His left eye was swollen and purple, multiple bruises covered his face and Tony could bet there was more under the covers. His right leg looked bulkier than the other. Basically, Steve Rogers was a mess.

"Hey Steve," Tony croaked out, "You know how you guys keep telling me I'm an idiot? You were right. I am. Maybe if I hadn't wallowed in self-pity and gotten drunk and brought that girl back even when I knew it wasn't right, maybe you would have told Fury you couldn't go on the mission. 'Cause your husband is stupid and he needs you."

Steve didn't reply. Tony slid a chair from the corner to beside Steve's bed. He fiddled awkwardly with the bed sheets before hesitantly, slowly, lifting Steve's unmarred hand into his. He squeezed the limp hand tightly. It felt right.

Almost by instinct, an involuntary force of familiarity, he brought up the hand to his lips and kissed it softly, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, Steve."

Steve was out for a while.

Tony stayed beside him the entire time, holding his hand, and occasionally saying a thing or two. After his initial little speech he didn't have much else, but he sometimes felt the need to say something to remind the other man that he was there.

"I don't even know if you can hear me, but what the heck," he muttered one time, letting out a small sigh. He watched Steve, before getting as comfortable as possible in his chair, and closing his eyes.

When he opened them, Steve was awake. "Whoa," he mumbled, not meaning to have fallen asleep. "Hey. You're awake," he said lamely.

"Yeah," the blonde murmured in reply. To say the least, he had been both surprised and relieved to not only find Tony at his bedside, but to find that he was also holding his hand. Sighing, Steve's eyes closed and he grimaced, brow furrowing. "The job-"

"You got it done. You did it," Tony said quickly, gently squeezing his hand again. For some reason, he just couldn't find the means to let go, even if Steve was awake now. "Are you okay? Do you need something?"

"No, I'm...okay," he breathed, and then frowned at Tony. "What're you doing here?"

"Fury told us what happened. Bruce, Clint, and I all came. And I think Natasha and Thor are coming later." he explained, and looked over his shoulder uncomfortably. "I should get a doctor-"

"You didn' answer," Steve said crossly. _I must be on the good drugs, he thought, because I don't feel any pain. And I'm numb. Ugh._

Tony pursed his lips into a thin line, and Steve knew that look. That was the look of Tony shutting down. To his surprise, though, he opened his mouth again. "Ah, fuck it. I've got to tell you anyway."

"Tony...?"

"I promise I'll tell you when you get some rest. I'm going to get a doctor, and he's going to make you're okay, and then you're going to sleep. Sounds like a plan, yeah?"

Steve blinked blearily at him. He was tired, but now he was curious on what Tony wanted to say. He didn't get the chance to say anything more before Tony left the room to catch the attention of a doctor, but he fell back into the inviting embrace of slumber before anyone could come in.

When Tony returned with the doctor, Steve was asleep again. He returned to his chair and stayed back out of the way while the doctor looked a few things over.

"He seems stable, but may be in and out of consciousness. Don't hesitate to call for someone if you need anything."

Blinking, it took Tony a moment to register what the doctor had said, but he managed a nod before he left. His hand once more slipped into Steve's and he held it gently while the other man slept. The next time Steve woke up, Tony made sure that he himself was awake for it.

"Hey."

Slowly, Steve's eyes opened and he registered the feeling of Tony's hand in his. "Oh. Hi," he whispered, feeling a little strange from the medication. Oh well, at least he couldn't feel any pain.

"How are you feeling?" the genius rattled off immediately. "Do you need anything? The doctor? I can go-" he started to pull away, but the sudden right grip on his hand stopped him.

"Tony."

"Now? But you have to be hungry, I can get some food. And Bruce wants to see you too-"

"You said that you'd tell me something after I rested more," Steve interjected. "I rested more. Now spill."

Tony huffed a little, slumping back down in the chair. "Strangely enough, I've been preparing myself to tell you and now that I have to I have no idea what to say."

Steve stayed silent, waiting.

"For one, I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry for what happened before you left. I don't know what I was thinking," At Steve's open mouth, he continued, "Contrary to popular belief, I haven't put up one night stands since before Afghanistan. So believe me when I say I was really out of it."

"You don't have to make excuses. I get that-"

"Oh, I know what you're going to say. But I really have no excuse. Because I knew better. Which leads on to the next part of this little heart to heart." Tony took a deep breath, "You were right from the beginning. I have been remembering things. Ever since that tumble when I landed flat on my face in the hospital. The pictures, the conversations...they triggered memories from the beginning."

"The wedding picture you dropped..." Steve whispered. Tony winced as he remembered crashing that same picture to the floor that had shattered into pieces the night before Steve left for the mission.

"Yeah." Tony muttered. "I was scared. Of you. Well, not really you. I'm not like the old Tony. I don't know how to be in a relationship, much less a husband. And I didn't want to hurt you, or deal with that kind of responsibility. Pretty stupid, huh?"

Steve opened his mouth, but Tony cut in again.

"But I did hurt you. And I'm so, so sorry Steve."

For a few moments after that there was silence, until Steve gently squeezed Tony's hand. He could tell that the man meant it- all he had to do was look into his eyes and see that he really was sorry. "Okay," he whispered. This didn't fix all of their problems, but it was a start. Finally, Tony was being honest with him.

"Now, do you need anything? Because I really can go get-"

"No," he murmured. "Just stay here. I want you to stay here," he told him firmly, taking a deep breath. "Tell me what you've been remembering."

That made Tony grimace. "Can't it wait for another time?"

"Hey, come on. You just started being honest, don't stop now." Steve insisted, smiling a little.

"Steve," Tony began, his face dead serious. "The memories are out of control. I can't stop them from coming to me. Lately, I could be just sitting there. And each time hurts more."

"What do you mean?" Steve frowned, concerned.

"I mean if I start talking about the memories, I might have another one. And you'd have to watch as I'm on the floor completely out of it. So. Can we please just wait until a better time?"

At that, Steve's brow furrowed with worry. "Tony, if it's that bad you should-"

"Bruce and Clint know about it. Jarvis is supposed to tell them if something happens," Tony waved a hand. "So don't worry about that, okay?"

Steve was still frowning, but he nodded slightly. "Well... Okay," he murmured.

"Okay. Glad we got that out of the way." Tony cleared his throat awkwardly. "Are you in any pain?"

"Surprisingly not." Steve shifted a little. "Can you find out when I can get out of here?"

"Not until the doctor clears you." Tony grinned. "Hmm, how familiar..."

Steve rolled his eyes, returning the Smile. "How the tables have turned."

"Yeah." Tony smiled at that, sighing softly as he looked away. The two of them fell into a silence, until finally, Steve spoke up.

"Can you get me some water?"

Tony nodded and stood up, grabbing a cup to fill up at the sink. He made sure to find a straw as well, just in case Steve needed that, too, and put it down beside the bed. "Do you want me to help you sit up?"

"That would be good, thanks."

Carefully, Tony grabbed Steve's hand and let the man pull as he sat up. He had to steady himself so Steve didn't pull him over, and then he made sure the other man was okay before he sat down again.

Steve sucked through the straw, loving the cold water rushing down his parched throat. "How is everyone?"

"We're all fine and relieved you're going to be okay," Bruce cut in, leaning against the door frame. "Did Tony finally spit it out?"

"Yes," Steve felt a little peeved that everyone else seemed to know about Tony's situation but him until now.

"I followed the doctor's orders for once!" Tony grinned, "I think I get some credit for that."

Bruce shook his head, a small smile on his face. Steve caught his eye and then flickered his gaze to Tony, hoping Bruce caught the hint. He couldn't take Tony's word that he was truly okay. And if Tony had admitted that it was painful, then it might be even worse. Bruce looked apologetic and shrugged. So not even Bruce knew Tony's overall condition.

"I see both of you having a silent conversation about me, and it's a little offending. You could, you know, ask me if I'm okay. It's really not that difficult. Can't we focus on Steve, please? When can he go home?"

Bruce sighed softly at that, giving a shrug. "They're wanting to keep Steve here for at least twenty four hours. If he seems to be improving after that, then he can go home." he told them, "But he'll need to take it easy for a while."

"Okay," Tony glanced to Steve for a moment. "That's not horrible. At least you won't have to stay here for ages, hm? Although the whole laying around in bed when you can go home might be annoying," he shrugged.

Still standing in the doorway, Bruce looked between Steve and Tony. "Well, do you guys need anything?"

"Food!" Tony exclaimed. "I need food. I haven't eaten in...I don't know; I lost track. Brucie, what day is it?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow at the nickname but replied, "I'll get you something then. And I think they're only allowing Jell-O for you, Steve."

Tony snorted at Steve's wrinkled nose. "I'll be sure to really express how much I'm enjoying the cheeseburger that Bruce is going to get me, because he is, right?"

"I'll be back with Jell-O and spinach." he said bluntly, and then left.

"But I hate spinach!" Tony looked legitimately horrified that Bruce would even consider feeding him that stuff. He scowled at Bruce's retreating form. "Rude."

Steve tried to laugh, but the pain that had blessedly been absent came again, and he winced at the sharp, rattling pain from his back. "Ow."

Concerned, Tony looked back to Steve at his sound of pain. "Steve?" he murmured, but the blonde was shaking head, trying to signal that he was okay.

Eventually, the pain subsided and Steve relaxed again. "I'm fine. And...it's very likely that Bruce will bring you spinach, just because he can."

"I know," Tony grumbled. He wasn't sure how, but he just felt like he knew that Bruce, while usually reserved and quiet (when he wasn't turned into a giant green rage monster), could really be a smartass like that. "But if he does, then I'm gonna get a cheeseburger, because that's what I want."

"Oh, I see. Torture me with the cheeseburger while I'm injured. So kind of you."

"Of course. You," he poked at Steve's chest, "locked me out of my workshop when I was recovering."

"It was essential-" Steve defended, but Tony waved a hand in dismissal.

"Screw that, I'm Iron Man."

Steve groaned in annoyance as the familiar excuse came around again. Tony used it a lot, especially when he didn't want to admit that he was a normal functioning human. Arc reactor fails during battle? I'm Iron Man. Gets his ass handed to him during an enemy fight? I'm Iron Man. Caught the flu? Goddammit, I'm Iron Man. "Here we go again."

"Hey! I remember that! I do remember that. I said that a lot. I did before the accident, too, but I remember saying it to you. Not sure exactly when, though." Tony said thoughtfully, voice drifting off.

Steve flitted his hand to Tony's. "Don't think about it right now. We'll talk about it later."

Tony stared at him, bemused and almost shocked. "You are something else, you know that? Any other person, or loved one, would jump right to answers. You, sir, are too perfect."

Steve just smiled.

********

Two days later, Steve was cleared to go home. His injuries were healing up nicely and rather fast, thanks to the serum, and he was allowed to head back home so long as he took it easy and did nothing except for sit around for a while.

Steve found no problem with that. He also found no problem with that fact that Tony seemed to be... hovering. The man was constantly at his side, always asking if he was okay and if he needed anything. Sometimes to incessant talking was a tad annoying, though...but overall, Steve was really glad to have Tony there. It was... sweet.

"Where ya going?" Tony asked as Steve shifted, grimacing as he slid to the edge of the bed in the guest room.

"I have to pee. I'm sure I can handle it on my own," he said lightly, to which Tony snorted.

"Mkay." He watched Steve, ready to assist him in actually getting into the bathroom, before he opened his mouth to speak. "Hey, so, uh, after this do you want to move to my- our room?"

"What?"

"The bed's more comfortable, you know," Tony waved a hand. "And I thought maybe you'd like sitting in there better than this guest room. More comforting or whatever."

"Um, yeah. That'd be fine." Steve nodded before shuffling to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Tony paced restlessly as he waited. There were a lot of things to cover still with Steve, like what he's remembered so far. And what his feelings are for Steve now. He didn't think that he had the same kind of...affection that the old Tony had, but it was more of a fondness. Steve was kind, compassionate, he knew Tony more than Tony seemed to know himself, and he wasn't bad on the looks either. Maybe...maybe they could just start as something smaller. Like going on a date. Yeah. I'm going to make my husband my boyfriend again. Awesome.

That, of course, depended if Steve didn't hate him for one, being an ass, and two, keeping so much from him.

"Hey, Steve?"

The man raised an eyebrow in question as he emerged from the bathroom again, as Tony continued, "I guess you're probably driving yourself insane wondering what I've been remembering."

"Maybe," Steve said slowly, grimacing as he moved closer to Tony. The genius saw this as a sign that perhaps he should help, so he stepped in for assistance, allowing Steve to lean on him as they headed out of the guest room and towards their bedroom.

"You definitely are," Tony said playfully, helping Steve into the other bedroom. He headed for what must have been his "side" of the bed and eased himself down, very carefully getting comfortable. Once they were both settled, Tony opened his mouth to speak again, but he was interrupted.

"You can tell me when you're ready," Steve said gently. "Don't force yourself to tell me. I'm curious, but willing to wait."

"And here I worried you were going to..." Tony snapped his mouth shut. He had been so, so completely wrong about Steve, and the other Avengers. They'd hardly even bugged him about it except for them telling him to let them know if something wasn't right.

"Going to what?" Steve asked softly.

"To push me." he finally said after a long pause of silence. "I had this...pretty irrational fear of you wanting to get all the memories out at once. So you could have me back."

"You're still here." Steve stated firmly. "You never left, Tony. Okay? You're still you."

"And I kind of get that now. In the memories, I watch myself, or I'm in myself, and it still feels like I'm me. I'm still a sarcastic bastard, obviously, but I guess...I have a hidden romantic side." He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. "That must have hit the tabloids like a motherfucker."

"You do," Steve nodded, smiling faintly. "And it did." He shifted in the bed, sighing softly. It felt nice to be back in their room, he thought, relaxing into the familiar mattress. "You just thought it was funny."

At that, Tony snorted. "Yeah, probably did," he stated, before standing from the chair he'd plopped himself in. He padded over to the bed and sat down, relaxing as he leaned back against his pillows. "But I'm guessing everyone's used to it now, right?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," Tony repeated, falling silent after a while. He glanced at Steve, who caught his gaze.

"You don't have to be here, you know."

"What?"

Steve was still looking at him, expression serious. "You don't have to sit around here with me. I know you'd much rather be in your lab doing... whatever it is you do these days," he murmured, finally looking away.

"You're not going to believe this, but...I really do want to stay with you. You did the same for me, right? And you're a better patient than I was." Tony defended himself, looking up at the ceiling above them.

"That's because I'm not as stubborn as you." Steve muttered.

"Oh, do not even go there. You are just as stubborn as me; you're just nicer about it. If my memories have told me one thing about Steve Rogers, it's that you don't give up on what you want." Tony's brow furrowed for a moment. "Hey, after you get better, can we all go out for shawarma?"

Steve bit back a grin. "That sounds great."

"I know it does. I just suggested it." Tony shrugged, and watched as Steve yawned and his eyes lowered halfway. "You can sleep now. I promise I won't talk You to death anymore."

"You're just...going to lay there and watch me sleep?" Steve asked, incredulous.

"Shuddup. Sleep."

As Steve closed his eyes and pushed back the utter discomfort of his healing back, his mind drifted to before the accident. And how Tony always asked him, especially after a nightmare, if he'd still be there in the morning. Steve always replied with "Always." "Be here in the morning?" He whispered almost silently to himself.

"Always." The response was just as timid and it felt different, but Steve appreciated it anyway.

Sure enough, Tony was there in the morning. Steve groaned softly as he shifted, pushing himself up against the pillows. "Tony, can-" he paused, realizing that Tony was asleep. The man was laying on his side, mouth hanging open, snoring softly. The sight was so familiar that it made Steve smile.

About twenty minutes later, Tony woke to find Steve sitting up, sketchbook propped in his lab. "Wha?" he blinked, rubbing his eyes as he took in his surroundings. He focused on Steve again as he wiped a bit of drool from his chin. "Morn..." The greeting was a drowsy mumble.

"Morning. Sleep okay?"

"Mmph... You?"

"Fine, thanks."

Slowly, Tony slipped out of the bed, stretching to pop a few joints. He still looked rather bleary, as always before Coffee Time, but he managed to form a complete sentence: "Want anything from the kitchen?"

"Well, I knowyou can't cook, so coffee would be fine. I'm sure Bruce will make something for us later." Steve said idly, tapping his pencil on the sketchbook.

"Don't you...eat like a horse?" Tony asked. "Are you going to survive that long without starving your weird metabolism?"

"I'll be fine." Steve grinned.

"How's your pain, by the way?"

"Not that bad. My bruises are almost faded. See?" He held out his arms to reveal skin that had not too long ago been decorated with various purple bruises was now nearly clear of any markings at all. It was the same case with his face. "I'm sure that in a week, I can take off this...cast off my leg. My back will probably be in good shape in a couple of days."

"Lucky bastard," Tony grumbled before leaving the room to get their coffee.

When Tony returned, he looked a little better now that he was putting some caffeine into his system. He handed Steve his mug of coffee before moving to sit down, sipping from his own cup. "Bruce was already in the kitchen," he murmured. "He said he'd whip up breakfast if we wanted it, so I told him to go for it." He shrugged.

"Oh, okay. Sounds good," Steve commented, taking a sip of his coffee. Tony had fixed it just the way he liked it- with a hint of sugar- and he wondered if the man had actually remembered that himself or had asked Jarvis about it.

"So," Tony said after a few more sips from his large coffee cup. "Whatcha drawing over there? Me? I betcha draw me a lot. Can't blame you for that, since I am devastatingly handsome," he smirked, leaning over to peek at the sketchbook.

"Yes," Steve murmured as he let Tony take the sketchbook and flip through it, "and you don't let me or anyone forget it."

"Hey, I like this one." Tony pointed to a sketch of an arc reactor from a side view. Steve must have looked at a spare and drawn it.

"Of course you do." Steve chuckled. "You liked it before. You like to look at my machine sketches, even though I don't really like drawing them at all."

"Hmm." Tony hummed, smiling a little. "I can't draw for shit. Ha! I knew it! You draw me."

There was a few pages of him, actually. Of his eyes, his face, his hands...he loved it. No one had done something like this before. Hell, he can 't remember the last "homemade" gift he'd ever gotten. Well, there was one...

"I'm sure you remember how I ran out on you on the anniversary when you showed me that drawing?" Tony suddenly asked after a minute of silence, and continued at Steve's nod, "It almost triggered a memory. That's why I made that dick move. But you should know that I seriously loved it. I do. I don't care if we're together or not. It was a nice thing for you to do, not to mention it was an amazing drawing. You have a lot of talent."

Steve's brow furrowed at that, but a light blush heated his cheeks when he received the compliment. "It's alright," he said, even though it had hurt quite a bit at the time when Tony had suddenly bolted like that. "And I'm glad you like it. It's what I was going for." He smiled.

Tony smiled back, averting his gaze for just a moment. "Yeah," he murmured. "Steve, I-"

"Sir," Jarvis suddenly interrupted, "Dr. Banner is requesting your presence in the kitchen. It seems he has finished preparing breakfast for yourself and Captain Rogers."

Damn AI. Tony thought, but he stood up anyways. "Kay, Jarv."

Tony then helped Steve from the bed and draped an arm around his waist to keep him steady to the elevator. Steve promptly refused crutches from the beginning, and no one argued with Captain America. So instead he relied on people.

Once in the kitchen, both men's noses were filled with the smell of frying bacon and eggs. "Oh, sweet Jesus, that's a wonderful smell!" Tony sighed happily, helping Steve into a chair. "Bruce, I love you in a totally, not creepy way."

"I know." He smirked as he looked over his shoulder. "How are you feeling, Cap?"

"A lot better." Steve said truthfully. "Like I was telling Tony, I'll be good as new by next week."

"Glad to hear it," Bruce nodded, just as he was finishing up the food. After a moment he slid a full plate to Steve, and then to Tony, before sitting down with his own to eat.

Something about this scene seemed strikingly familiar to Tony, but he wasn't entirely sure why. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know, really, because the eggs and bacon were calling his name right at that moment. Memories could wait for later; right now he wanted some food. Quickly, he reached out to grab the salt for his eggs, but Steve reached at the same time and their hands brushed. "Oh," he blinked, just as his head throbbed painfully. Shit. "You go ahead."

Steve smiled and sprinkled a little on his eggs. "Here you go." He slid the salt shaker to Tony, but instead of catching it, Tony let it slide right on by and fall over the edge onto the floor. This caught Steve's attention and he looked up, seeing that the genius' eyes looked unfocused and distant. "Um. Tony?"

Steve saw Bruce snap his head up, as if he was expecting something. Without warning, Tony slid off his chair and onto the floor, shaking all over. "Tony!" Steve yelled, but before he could stand, Bruce ran over to Tony's side and held his shoulders. "Bruce, is this a memory? What do we do?"

"Just help me hold him down. And be careful." Bruce said quickly, and tried calling Tony's name, "Tony?"

"Your bacon is going to get cold, Tony." Steve tried, terrified as he watched Tony's open, glassy eyes oscillate back and forth. "Tony!"

_There is fiery hot pain that seems to split his head and suddenly he's back in his room. He's in his bed, wrapped in what feels like arms and his back pressed against...what, Steve? He knows its Steve._

_Then he's in the kitchen, and his whole team is surrounding him in his kitchen. Bruce is at the stove, and Clint is sitting on top of the table, and Natasha is actually reading the newspaper, and Thor is digging through the fridge, yelling something about orange juice and the uncanny absence of Pop-Tarts. It's a nice scene. A hand slips into his and he turns to see Steve smiling at him affectionately._

_"When did I let all these crazy people into my house?" Tony asks._

_Steve laughs, the heartiest and careless laugh, and it's the best thing Tony's heard._

_Tony thought he could hear someone saying his name, but the pain pulled him under again. He was flashes, little snippets of various meals with the team and with Steve before his mind settled on a particular memory._

_The team is gathering at the table, shuffling in for what seems like a breakfast feast. Everyone is there, except for a particular archer. Natasha is muttering something about going to drag his ass out of bed, when suddenly, an arrow flies through the stack of pancakes. Russian curses slip out of Natasha's mouth before all hell breaks loose, and she picks up an orange, and throws. From above there's a muffled "fuck!" and then, Thor is laughing as Natasha grabs a handful of eggs and just throws, while Clint drops to the floor beside the table. He finds a biscuit and chucks it at her head, before Natasha retaliates by slinging a spoonful of oatmeal._

_Whoa. Natasha has moments where she isn't scary as hell? Weird. But it's funny._

_Steve looks horrified at the mess that's being made, and Tony gasps as the plate of bacon goes flying. "No, not the bacon!"_

_But Clint and Natasha don't seem to hear, and before long, Tony shrugs. "FOOD FIGHT!" he yells, laughing as he smears syrup across Steve's face, because... hey, what the hell._

Then his vision tunneled, and then he was back in present time. Lying on the floor (when had he gotten there) and Steve was yelling at him. "Avengers food fight." he muttered, dazed.

Bruce and Steve glanced at each other, concerned. "What, did you remember that stupid food fight from a few months ago?"

"If we're talking about the same food fight. Why, does it happen often?" Tony grinned a little.

"No. Because I don't enjoy cleaning it up." Steve huffed, and strained to sit back down in his chair as Bruce helped Tony up, whose, to his dismay, body was still shaking with tremors. "Sit down before you fall down."

Tony did. Steve stared at him sternly. "Tony, what triggered that memory?"

"I got a headache right when I walked in," Tony shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal. I have you guys to snap me out of it, right?"

"Tony," Steve's brow furrowed at that. "It is a big deal. You could get hurt..." he looked at him with concern. It looked like it had hurt, quite a bit.

Tony waved a hand, which was still shaking just slightly from the episode. "Really, Steve, it's fine. See, I'm okay now." He flashed him a smile before turning back towards his food, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Mm, these egg are fucking delicious..."

Steve watched him, letting out a small huff. "Tony.."

"Steve..." Tony sing-songed, and took a bite of his bacon. "Okay, how about we ask the doctor here. Bruce?"

"I'm not an expert in neurology, Tony. You really should see a doctor that deals with these sort of things." Bruce sat down at the table with him.

"No." Tony's eyes flashed with reproach.

"What happens if we-"

"If it gets worse, I will have Jarvis look into it more. But right now, I think we can just all calm down and wait it out." Tony said, and he went back to his food.

Steve looked like he might protest, but then he just sighed and went back to his food, chewing slowly. Were the episodes always this bad? Or could they get worse? What if something seriously hurt Tony, what if he didn't snap out of his episode...

"Yo, Capsicle," Tony was having a fork in his face. "Quit worrying, hm?"

"Stop worrying about you? Not likely." Bruce cut in, making Steve smile. "Even if you don't see a doctor, Tony, you do still need to take it easy."

"I will. I've got nothing better to do anyway." Tony shrugged.

"And do not try to trigger those memories." Steve said firmly. "Especially if you're alone."

"Steve, I can't control it anymore." he sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just..." Steve huffed. "Be careful, okay?"

Tony shrugged at that. "I can't make any promises," he picked up a piece of bacon, "But I can try, mkay?"

"Mkay."

Bruce looked between the two, eyebrows raised. "Yeah, at least try," he agreed, though he wasn't sure how exactly Tony would regain his memory if he tried to suppress it.

"Well, either way, Steve, since you're going to be resting, which I will personally make sure of, what should we do to make...hm...less boring? Because I don't know what you're supposed to do when you're taking it easy and not boring yourself to death. I spend most of my time pretending to be resting and then actually just run my company and work anyway." Tony ranted while he ate.

"We watch movies, usually." Steve told him, but Tony completely disregarded him, lost in his own trail of thought. Steve was used to this.

"Where is the rest of the team? I haven't seen Thor and Natasha or Clint since Steve was in the helicarrier infirmary...which was...Bruce, what day is it?"

"Natasha and Clint are clearing up some details with Steve's mission. Making sure there's no other partners in work that we missed. Thor's visiting Jane in New Mexico." Bruce added.

"Whoa, hold up, who's Jane?" That caught Tony's attention, because his memories hadn't shown him anything about a Jane.

"Kind of like Thor's girlfriend. Or something like that. All I know Thor's googly eyed over her." Bruce explained.

"That...I didn't know." Speaking of complicated relationships... "Steve, we need to talk soon. I need a few hours first, because I need to work on the thruster capacity before I forget...again."

"Okay," Steve said simply, though he was wondering just what Tony wanted to talk about. There was no telling with that man, to be honest. "Just let me know, and we'll talk." By then he was finished with his plate of food, and Bruce picked it up for him to put it in the dishwasher.

"And be careful in the lab," Bruce said, as usual, before Tony went to go work on something.

"Yes, mom," Tony rolled his eyes as he stood. "Anyways, yep. Thruster capacity. Gonna go do that." With a wave he walked off, muttering something to Jarvis as he went.

Steve watched him go, lips pursed. "Oh, great. Now it's mixed around. I don't want Tony to remember so that he won't get hurt, and he wants to remember so that it will just stop."

Bruce sighed heavily. "Whether it's good for him to have these episodes or not, he clearly doesn't have any control over it."

"What should we do, then? Force him to go to a doctor? Just for one appointment?"

"Steve, you know we can't do that. We're walking a fragile line here. Tony's beginning to trust us again...for the first time. Especially you. He wouldn't have told you anything about this if he didn't trust us, and he wouldn't open up to you like he's been doing." he took a breath, "If we break that, if we start pushing him to do what we think is the right choice, it's all going to go to hell. And we'll probably lose him again, and be right where we started."

"What is the right choice?" Steve muttered, crossing his arms on the table and burying his head.

"I don't have an answer for that."

"Do you think he's...erm, falling for me...?" Steve asked, lifting his head a little. "That sounded less awkward in my head."

"Hmm, it probably did," Bruce muttered, picking up his coffee mug to take a sip. This was a subject that he figured was best discussed between Tony and Steve, so he just shrugged. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I said maybe," Bruce waved a hand, to which Steve made a frustrated sound.

"You're not helping." He rubbed a hand over his face before slowly standing up. "I guess... I'll go draw or something until Tony's ready to talk."

Limping slightly, he went up to the top penthouse, he and Tony's, and since it was warmer than it had been in days he went outside, and this was his last chance to catch a decent skyline to draw before the snow came. So he sat on a lounge chair on the balcony, lay his sketchbook on his lap, and let his mind wander.

A few hours later, he was jerked out of his thoughts by a tap on his shoulder. He looked behind him to see Tony dressed in a coat and scarf, arms wrapped tightly around himself. "Aren't you freezing?"

Steve blinked. He hadn't even realized that the temperature had dropped significantly. He didn't really feel the cold that often either. "No, I'm fine. What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, we should go inside first. I don't know about you, but I am going to freeze my ass off." Tony said, and offered his hand to Steve. Steve took it, carefully pulling himself to his feet. He stumbled slightly, but Tony steadied him by putting a hand on his chest.

"You good?"

Nodding, he let Tony keep a hand on his chest as they walked back into the living room of the penthouse. He didn't realize how chilly it was until he felt the rush of warm air. He sat back down on the couch and waited as Tony took off his winter clothes and sat next to Steve. "Tony?"

"I know you don't think it's a good idea. I get that. I thought it was too."

_Oh. That's what he wanted to talk about._

"Tony, I want more than anything to help you through this, I do-"

"If you'd just listen-"

"I can't. Tony, I can't sit here and watch you suffer like you did in the kitchen-"

"I'm suffering by keeping all this shit inside! Do you know how fucking long I've been holing this up and pretending I'm okay? And how much it's taking to tell you this?" Tony exclaimed. "Please, Steve."

Steve looked at Tony for a moment, feeling conflicted. What was he supposed to do? He wanted more than anything to hear what the other man had to say, but... He was terrified of him having another episode. What if was worse? What if he really hurt himself?

"Steve, please. I need to get this off of my chest." Tony stared at him, eyes wide and pleading. He'd worked himself up to this and he didn't want to be denied the chance to tell it now.

"I don't know..."

"Come on-"

"Tony, please. You have to understand why I'm worried!"

"I do, Steve!" Tony yelled, and then softened his voice. "I'm a little freaked out too. I don't know what to do."

"I don't know what to do either," Steve admitted.

Tony paused, then a smile crept over his face. "That's funny, I recall you saying you always know what to do."

Steve frowned. "You're blackmailing me?"

"That's not blackmail."

"I'm pretty sure it is."

"Steve!" Tony huffed, putting his hands to Steve's shoulders. "Help me. You wanted to help, so help."

"I meant helping as in keeping you alive and well." he growled. "At least see a doctor."

"No!" Tony glared at him. "No. I won't. You know I won't."

Steve sighed, putting his face in his hands. "At least wait a little while longer, okay? When I'm healed and..." he thought about it, "I don't want you to be in a hospital bed again for Christmas."

"Christmas?" Tony blinked. "What day is it?"

"The 12th." Steve smiled a little.

"Oh, damn." Tony paused, thinking for a moment. "Right. Well, I'm _not_ going to be in a hospital bed for Christmas."

"Right." Steve didn't look convinced. He just looked worried, sighing as he gazed over at Tony.

"What are our plans for Christmas anyways?" Tony asked after a moment, hiding a smirk. Oh, he had plans, but wanted to see what Steve had to say first. Maybe they had a tradition or something he wasn't aware of.

Steve shrugged. "We usually hang around here Christmas morning, but..." he trailed off. After that, they didn't really have any formal plans- they just spent the day together.

Tony hummed at that, looking back behind them to the glass windows. "I used to spend Christmas alone, if you can define alone when you throw a party and are surrounded by people you don't even know."

"I know." Steve said softly.

"Of course you do." Tony smirked, shielding whatever emotions that his statement had stirred up in his mind, and leaned back against the couch, unconsciously inching closer to Steve. "Sorry, by the way."

"For what? You haven't done anything that drastic enough to muster an apology from you." Steve cocked his head at Tony.

"Well, you've had to practically tear yourself away from your own husband. And I didn't help at all. I guess...I don't know...I want to try to make it better?" he shrugged. "However I can."

Steve looked at Tony for a moment, before he shook his head slightly. "You don't have to try and fix things if you don't..." he trailed off, sighing. Hell,who was he kidding here; he knew Tony wouldn't do anything he didn't want to do, so he guessed the argument he was going to make was invalid. "Okay."

"Okay," Tony repeated. "So, I'm thinking I know a way to make it better. Well, kind of." At Steve's mildly worried look, he waved a hand . "Don't give me that. You'll like it, I swear."

"But you said kind of."

"Well, it's not a fix-all solution," he huffed. "But it's something you'll like."

"I will, huh?" Steve studied Tony suspiciously.

"Okay...um, I'm not good with...feelings and shit, as you very well may know already," Tony exhaled, "But from what I do remember so far, you're a good man. A really, really great guy. I don't know all the details, of course, but you were obviously doing a good job with handling me, and all that. And I think...and this I'm not sure of...I think I feel...something."

Although his heart was pounding, aching for his husband, he kept his gaze calm...or attempted to. "Tony, don't pretend if you don't-"

"No, I'm serious!" Tony insisted, turning in his seat and gripping Steve's shoulder. "Just knowing you since I woke up in the hospital, you've been great. I like you. I do. I really do. So, for Christmas Eve, I want to take you, Steve, on our first date. My first date, not yours, but you get the point."

Tony's hands were in movement his whole request, so it was clear he was a bit anxious. Steve closed his eyes, not sure if he wanted to go back all that time and...start over. Which he knew was ridiculous. It was more than he'd ask for from how the situation was getting before Tony opened up to him. Then he felt a hand on his and breath close to his face. Unconsciously, he leaned forward, but Tony chuckled and pulled away slightly.

"We should...probably take it slow, shouldn't we?"

Steve blinked at Tony for a moment, before he managed to nod at him. "Yeah," he whispered, before rubbing his eyes. "Yeah. We should take it slow." When Tony seemed to just stare at him expectantly, he took another moment to realize exactly why. "Oh! And I'd love to go on a date with you, Tony. I think it sounds great." He nodded once, smiling when the other man smiled, too.

"Awesome. I'm totally picking the place, but don't worry, you'll like it." He winked as he stood up, and the action made Steve's heart flutter. "So. Don't forget it. Christmas eve." He reached out for a moment, his hand brushing over Steve's shoulder before he turned and left the room, probably needing a moment to process what he had just done. In the beginning of their relationship, he called it 'decompressing after getting in touch with feelings.' Steve just let him go, because he knew he needed to.

As Tony walked away, though, Steve couldn't help but laugh as he heard, "Jarvis, I totally just made my husband my boyfriend again."


	15. A Touch of Bad Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, is this fic really almost done? Has these six months paid off? Am I honestly going to let myself write a sequel? I guess we'll find out. Let me know how you've liked it! This is by far the longest fic I've ever written. 
> 
> I am in no way a doctor or educated in medicine or anything like that. Research has provided me with most of any medical information. Excuse my mistakes, please.

Steve felt the nightmare that he'd feared ever since he knew about Tony's episodes was now unfolding itself in front of his eyes. It'd been 5 minutes, and Tony wasn't waking up or showing any signs of becoming aware again. He squeezed Tony's hand, sure he was leaving bruises behind because he was squeezing so hard. Tony's limbs had begun to jerk in an unnatural way, body arching off the sidewalk. Grateful that the street was clear, he dialed Happy. "Get to the entrance. Now!"

"Steve, what is it?"

Steve didn't bother to answer. He snapped the phone shut and turned his attention back to Tony. "Tony! Tony, come on. C'mon, Tony, wake up." Steve wasn't holding on to Tony's hand anymore, but Tony gripped his without any intention to let go. Tony's eyes rolled back into his head, and anxiously Steve shook his shoulders. "Tony, hang on. Just...hang on, okay? Snap out of it, Tony, please..."

No such plead was answered. Tony continued to shake uncontrollably. Just as Happy's car rolled up, Tony's body lay still. Steve wasn't sure if this was good or bad. Tony's hand fell limp from his. Panic clutching at his heart, he leaned his head to Tony's face and waited for the reassuring puff of air. There wasn't any.

Tony wasn't breathing.

No, no, no, this wasn't happening.. Steve glanced up, realizing that Happy was there, and he suddenly kicked into gear. There was no time to sit there and panic. He scooped Tony into his arms and slid into the car, cradling his husband. "Hospital. Now!" he demanded, and Happy didn't question it. The driver immediately took off, no doubt breaking about twenty traffic laws in about twenty seconds.

"Tony. Tony," Steve smacked his hand against his husband's cheek. "Come on, damn you.. Please," he whispered, before he was holding Tony's nose and leaning down, attempting mouth to mouth. He had to do something- he couldn't just sit here with his husband not breathing in his lap.

"Happy?" he finally said again when he realized the car was stopped. Why was it stopped? What was this? "We need to-"

"There's traffic, I'm trying to get around-"

"Fuck it." Without another word, Steve opened the car door, and then he was running, with Tony in his arms. Desperate measures call for desperate actions.

Steve was hoping that all the movement would be enough to get Tony breathing again. He wanted to keep going to the hospital, but it was still 2 blocks away and Tony didn't have enough time for proper resuscitation. He didn't have a choice but to stop and lay a limp Tony down on the fairly empty street and administer mouth to mouth again. When Steve's lips met Tony's and he breathed out, giving Tony his breath, his chest rose and then fell in sync with his breath. But still there was no response. "Don't you dare. You can't do this to me, Tony. You can't." Steve said, voice nearing hysterical. "Don't you dare leave me like this!"

He breathed for Tony again. And again. "Tony, please. I love you, I love you so much, you can't..." he muttered hoarsely, "Even if things are different. I love you."

And he tried again. Finally, finally, there was a twitch from Tony's hand. Steve didn't dare let down his guard, putting both of his hands below the arc reactor and pushing gently to help Tony's heart begin beating easier. Tony's eyes fluttered and he groaned, shaking his head drowsily. Steve felt like he could dance around and whoop in joy. "Oh, thank God, Tony. Listen, you're fine. I'm going to take you to the hospital, okay? You'll be fine."

Tony looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, not fully alert. Then he smiled a little and seemed to slip back in unconsciousness. Steve lifted Tony into his arms again and continued towards the hospital.

When they got to the hospital, Steve wasn't afraid to pull the "this is Tony Stark and he needs a doctor NOW" card. Thankfully, someone listened and Tony was placed onto a stretcher as Steve explained what happened. "He's breathing now, but he wasn't, and I.." he took a deep breath, realizing that he was shaking. "Just help him, please."

Steve found himself thrown into the middle of many nurses as they demanded all details of Tony's condition. He knew, however, that Tony needed Dr. Reynolds first. He knew everything there was medical wise about Tony. And honestly, Steve didn't want anyone else with their hands on Tony. Not with the risk of his arc reactor being exposed. "You need to call his doctor. I...I don't know his first name, but his last name is Reynolds. It should be in Tony's file." One nurse nodded at him and bustled off, and the rest turned their attention to Tony, and wheeled him out of sight through double doors. Now, Steve was standing alone, frozen and terrified.

******

Tony wasn't quite sure what was happening. He was aware that Steve was carrying him, but he was also aware of little flashes- memories? Were these memories?- skirting through his mind. "What...' he groaned, suddenly hearing Steve saying something about needing a doctor. Oh. Where were they? Then Steve was abruptly missing.

 _Hey, where did Steve go?_ he thought absently, frowning as bright light shined into his eyes. The light didn't help his pounding head at all, and he lifted an arm and sloppily waved away at whoever was crowding around him.

"Mr. Stark, can you hear us?" _I don't want to. Leave me alone. Bring Steve back. Where is he? Hell, where am I? Steve? Get me out of here. Bring me home_. "Heart rate's going crazy. Angela?"

"It's not safe to sedate him if he stopped breathing. Mr. Stark, open your eyes. Can you do that?" someone asked him. _No_. More images threatened to succumb his consciousness. Steve's face was swimming through the shadows of his vision, smiling and gentle and handsome as always. _Husband. My husband_.

He let himself go again.

*****

For a long while, Steve was forced to wait. He paced near the room that they had taken Tony to, unable to settle or stop worrying for even a second. No one had even come to tell him what was going on, and he just wanted to know...  
"Mister Stark-Rogers?" He heard someone saying it and his head snapped up, heart racing. "Yes?" he asked the doctor desperately, "Is my husband okay?" The way the man pursed his lips had fear stabbing through Steve's chest, and he sucked in a breath. "Doctor?"

"It... appears that he is unconscious," the doctor said. "And for the time being, we are unable to get him to respond to our treatments."

Oh. Unconscious. That meant Tony was alive, which was good, but he wasn't awake.

"Doctor-"

"Dr. Thostenson," he said politely.

"Dr. Thostenson, he'll be okay, right? Once he wakes up..." Steve's relief died a little at the doctor's expression.

"Mr. Stark-Rogers was in a car accident not too long ago, yes? His file said his head hit the window, and he's been recovering from a traumatic brain injury," the Dr. Thostenson waited for Steve's confirmation. "And he's had a case of amnesia?"

"He lost his memory of the past two years. But he's been getting his memories back." The doctor snapped to attention. "At first it was just headaches and small memories, and then dreams, but...the last few weeks, he's been worse. He'll end up on the floor shaking badly. This has been the first time he stopped breathing."

Thostenson nodded curtly. "I've contacted Dr. Reynolds. He's on his way here. For now, we'll be running Tony through some tests."

"Okay," Steve said slowly, suspicious at his lack of answer. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I'm not a neurologist," the doctor sighed, "and it could be an easy fix with a steady recovery. Or, the brain's been more damaged than we first believed. There's some swelling in the brain right now, and as I said, he's not responding. I'll keep you updated, alright?"

Steve swallowed hard before he gave a nod. "Can I see him?" he asked, feeling desperate to be at Tony's side. He needed to be there with him, and to see that he was breathing and at least somewhat okay.

The doctor sighed. "Right now, it is best that you wait here. Like I said, I'll keep you updated." With that, he walked away, leaving Steve standing there with a pained look on his face.

Great. Now he had to just sit here and... wonder. Wonder if Tony was going to be alright.

Steve figured that he should probably call Bruce or someone. No one knew yet that their date had turned from a nice evening into a disaster. And at least he'd have something to distract himself with. Nimbly, he took out his phone from his jacket pocket and dialed Bruce. And he waited.

"Hey, Steve. How's your date?" The man greeted cheerfully.

"It was going fine. We were enjoying ourselves. But...," he thought of Tony falling to the ground, and shaking so uncontrollably and shuddered. "Tony had an episode right when we started to go home because he said his head hurt. It was bad."

"How bad?" Bruce demanded.

"He stopped breathing, Bruce. I did CPR and carried him to the hospital." It sounded surreal as he said it.

"Oh, God," Bruce breathed in horror and there was a pause on the other end. "I'm going to have to tell the rest of the team. They're looking at me like they're going to kill me if I don't explain."

"That's fine. They deserve to know."

"They'll be there within the hour, you know." Steve could tell Bruce was trying to lighten the mood, keep Steve focused.

"I could use the company. They won't let me see him."

"Why? You're his spouse."

"They said they needed to do some tests first. His brain is swelling a little." Steve didn't exactly know what that meant for someone other than it was not good at all. Another pause.

"Dammit. Steve, we'll be there soon. Hang in there."

"Hanging." Steve muttered weakly before hanging up.

Steve was restless as he waited, unable to keep himself from glancing down the hallway for any signs of Tony's doctor. He wanted to hear something, hopefully get news... anything, really.

Bruce was the first of the team to arrive, looking a little disheveled as he found Steve. "Hey," he took a deep breath. "Any word yet?" When Steve shook his head, he grimaced, glancing at the time. "Okay... that's okay. If anything serious happened, they would tell you," he said with an assuring smile, hoping he was right. "Now, I know you're not usually for it, but I think you need to... you know. Pull the 'I'm Captain America and I need to be with my husband' card, because it would probably be good if you were with Tony. In case he wakes up. So, go on," he urged.

Steve sighed. He didn't really like using his status as a superhero and international icon as a way to get what he wanted. But this was Tony. "You think so?"

"Yes," Bruce smiled faintly. "Who can resist Captain America?"

Steve swallowed and went up to the receptionist desk where a young woman was typing away on the computer. "Ma'am? I need to see Tony Stark-Rogers right now." he said firmly, inwardly kicking himself at how authoritative he sounded. The young woman, dark red hair put up into a pony tail, looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Please."

"And you are...?"

"Steve Stark-Rogers." he said, stressing his last name. The young woman's eyes widened for a moment before she scrambled for the phone and dialed something. Steve waited, wondering if yes, that was all it took and he could see Tony. He watched as she murmured exchanged words with the person on the other line.

"He'll be out of his CT scan in a moment, Mr. Stark-Rogers. They're about to move him into room 314 in the ICU. You're cleared to head up there if you'd like." she smiled sweetly. "You can't, however, have anyone come with you until he's more stable."

"ICU?" Steve stammered slightly.

The receptionist gave him a sympathetic look. "Tell Iron Man we're rooting for him."

He said he would and gave Bruce a shrug, eyes wandering to the elevator. The scientist nodded and sat down in a chair, motioning for him to go. By the time Steve had gotten out of the elevator to the third floor, his fingers twitched in anxiety. The overwhelming urge to see Tony was kind of ridiculous, but in his defense he watched his husband have a damn seizure in the middle of the street and had to get him breathing again.

 _314...314...There!_ He walked quickly to the room and saw a handful of nurses leave. He peeked inside and saw that Dr. Thostenson was leaning over Tony, blocking him from Steve's view. He cleared his throat.

Dr. Thostenson turned and offered a wry smile. "I heard you used a little advantage."

Steve flushed sheepishly. "I needed to see him."

The doctor sighed. "Well, there's nothing crucial we can see at the moment. He's stable more or less, he's breathing, and there are no signs of having any more seizures. He's just...asleep."

Steve jerked. "Not in...a coma, right?"

"In a way. But it's not the type of coma that his body starts shutting down, so that's good. His brain is functioning correctly. The swelling of the brain is going down as we lower his body temperature, so the best solution will probably just to wait it out and let his body recuperate. From what I can tell, his body is letting itself recover and more than likely he should wake up on his own terms." the doctor explained.

Steve felt relief even though there was a distant uncertainty in the doctor's words. Tony wasn't going to stop breathing or have a seizure, and that was good enough for him for now. "So we wait?"

"It seems that way. We'll know the cause of the seizure and the brain swelling once the CT results are in. Dr. Reynolds will check in with you." With that, the doctor shook his hand and left.

Sucking in a breath, he turned his attention to Tony. He was a bit paler, his breathing a bit more labored than Steve would like, and he definitely didn't like the nasal cannula placed in Tony's nose and around his head. But he looked better than he did. "Hey," Steve said, pulling up a chair and placing it next to the bed. "Hey, Tony. I'm here."

He took his hand rubbed slow circles on the back, watching Tony's face.

"I have you know, it's far past midnight. You kind of promised me that you wouldn't be in a hospital bed on Christmas."

Steve didn't expect any sort of reply, but the silence from the genius made him sigh. "God, Tony..." he reached out, as if he was going to touch his face, before his hand dropped down into his lap. He merely chewed on his lower lip, watching his unconscious husband for what felt like ages. Finally, though, someone else entered the room and he turned to them. "Dr. Reynolds."

The doctor smiled briefly, looking down at a file in his hand. "The CT results just came back," he said, approaching the bed. "And the good news is that swelling seems to be going down," he nodded slightly, to which Steve felt himself relax just a little bit.

"And the reason for his seizure?"

"Well," he shifted his weight. "From what we can gather, and from what you told us, it is most likely related to his memories."

Steve frowned slightly. "I see." He'd known that Tony remembering things was dangerous for his health. He'd just known it..

"Mr. Stark-Rogers, you do realize there was no stopping this, right?" Dr. Reynolds asked, as if reading the other man's mind. Steve looked up, confused. "Tony made the mistake of not consulting a certified doctor when he started having the memories, so we could make measures that this wouldn't happen. But it could also mean that he's recovering. If Tony takes the right medication and makes some...adjusting accommodations, there's no reason to repress the memory bursts. Or, the swelling did some good and maybe Tony got all of his memories back. There's no telling."

Steve was getting a headache. He was so tired of not knowing whether Tony was going to be okay or not. So tired of hoping and trying to be confident for both he and Tony's sake.

He didn't care, really, whether it was husband Tony or amnesia boyfriend Tony. He just wanted _him_ and _him_ to be healthy. That's it. That's all he's fucking asking. "We just wait and see again, huh?"

"Afraid so." the doctor said apologetically. "He's lucky to have someone at his side. How's it been going since the accident? For you and your husband?"

"It's...been hard. Really, really, hard." Steve sighed. His thoughts went to Tony being in pain, him drinking, of the plane crashing, of Tony yelling at him. Then he thought of Tony laughing as Steve scrambling through the closet buck ass nude, Tony beside him when he woke up in the hospital, Tony at the date just hours ago. "And it's been great all the same."

Dr. Reynolds nodded at that. "I see," he said with a small nod, before he reached out to gently Steve on the shoulder. "Well, we'll be doing everything we can for your husband. Don't hesitate to call for a nurse or someone if there's anything you need."

Steve nodded, managing a very small, appreciative smile. "Thanks." he murmured, and then the doctor was headed out of the room. When the room was empty, save for him and Tony, he sighed and reached over to grasp his husband's hand again, searching his face for any sign of movement. "Can you even hear me in there?"

Steve doubted it. His phone chimed and he saw that he had a new text message.

_Doc says we can come up in a few HOURS, which i think is dumb. They said he's gonna be okay. Bruce is making me shower. He says I stink but I don't think so. This is my man smell. Don't be surprised if you see me through a vent. See ya later. - Clint_

Steve couldn't help but grin. "You guys are a horrible influence on each other. I bet you knew that from day one." he said to Tony, then propped on his elbows on the bed, resting his head on his hands. "I didn't tell you this before, because I knew it would freak you out, but before you lost your memory we were about to dig into adopting a child. I think you already started. You cleared out the room near yours and you started talking about it more. You kept saying, 'If we had a kid...'" a lot."

He reached out a hand and stroked Tony's cheek. "You'd make a good dad. At least, I think so." He kept talking and talking, not sure if Tony was hearing him and not really caring.

"Actually, I know so," Steve corrected himself after a moment. "You're the most... god, you're just so caring. You can say otherwise, but you're always making sure everyone else is okay. And that's sort of what being a parent is about... making sure your little one is okay." He was quiet after that, gently stroking Tony's cheek.

******

Tony wasn't sure why everything seemed so muffled. He could swear he heard Steve talking, but it was like he was far away, and everything seemed so jumbled. Why couldn't he reply? This was weird...

The words he could hear coming from Steve faded, and it was like he was suddenly just sucked into nothing. A blackness, with no sound, no memories. Not a thing.

******

A few hours later, and Steve knew the time because he could see sunlight starting to creep through the windows, the Avengers piled in. Clint was snoring away with his head on Natasha's lap on the couch and Bruce was passed out on a chair on the other side of Tony's bed. They'd given Tony a bigger room out of the ICU once he remained stable, so there was plenty of room. Steve let himself doze on and off, being occasionally jerked from sleep as he remembered that Tony might wake up.

He looked behind him and saw that Natasha, who didn't often just give in and sleep, had indeed fallen asleep too. He smiled and then looked back at Tony. It occurred to him then. "Merry Christmas, Tony. You owe me. But you can make it up by waking up."

*****

Tony was an awareness, floating through different periods of time. It was okay. These were okay memories. But they got worse. Tony was thrown into the cave again, screaming in pain and then being dunked. Tony was running from Obadiah. Tony was dying. Tony was arguing with Steve during their first few encounters. Tony was in space and he almost died again. These hurt. These hurt a lot.

The memories faded and Tony was standing in the middle of a barren land. He knew this place. It was a desert village, tattered and ruined. He knew this kind of place far too well. "Hello?" his voice sounded alien.

And then he saw his friends start to walk toward him. First Natasha, then Clint, who was not grinning. Then Bruce. They all looked at him blankly. "Guys?"

" _C'mon, Stark, don't fuck it up._ " Natasha's lips did not move, but her voice was unmistakable.

" _Prove you're a hero, Tony_." Clint's voice. 

" _Are you a hero, Tony? Or are you just...you?_ " Bruce's voice. He's frozen. He can't move. They continue to stare at him.

And then Steve was right there, in his face, unsmiling. " _Do you love me, Tony?"_

 _"Yes,_ " he chokes out, and that's all he gets out. There's water in his lungs, in his throat. He coughs. It keeps coming, like he's drowning. He panics, flailing. "St-!"

" _That's not enough. Always have to depend on me to save you, Tony. But I'm not always going to be here for you._ " Steve's voice so close but so far away echoed all around him. Bruce, Clint, and Natasha all disappear in a cloud of sand, and then Steve stands there, watching him drown. Tony falls to his knees, searching for air. It doesn't hurt like it should. Suddenly, there's red on Steve's Captain America uniform. It's growing all around his stomach and torso, like dozens of bullet holes. It's all too familiar of a friend that died saving him. "NO!" his eyes squeeze shut, and when he opens them, there is only a blood spattered shield. All alone, Tony...

"TONY!"

*******

Not long after Steve went to get a cup of coffee, he saw Tony stirring. His limbs twitched, his eyes were moving under his eyelids. Then his face scrunched up in what looked like pain. "Tony? Tony, are you awake? Hey. You're okay. "

He whimpered, head turning slightly. Steve's heart clenched. He knew the signs of a nightmare when he saw one. "Tony. Wake up."

Tony was quiet for just a second before he started screaming.

"Tony please, it's okay, shh," Steve was frantic, not knowing what to do. As the others stirred from the commotion, he glanced up, eyes wide. "He's having a nightmare- or something- he-"

Just as Bruce started to walk towards the bed, just as a nurse rushed inside in a panic to see what the hell was going on, Tony jerked awake. His eyes suddenly just snapped open, though they seemed unfocused as he blindly looked around for a moment. Steve, meanwhile, was still trying to soothe him. "Tony, it's okay. I'm right here. Just squeeze my hand, okay? You're safe, I swear... you're okay."

"Where-" he croaked out as he seemed to become a little more aware, though his heart rate was crazy as he continued to look around the room. Steve took his eyes off Tony for just a second to notice that the rest of the team had been ushered out and the door was closed. The nurse was administering something through the IV then, which seemed to calm him. His tense muscles relaxed and his heart rate slowed. "Oh..." he mumbled. His eyes finally focused on Steve, and the blond could tell that was Tony's expression when he was trying to concentrate.

"Tone?" he whispered, kissing his knuckles. "Hey. You okay?" Please God, he had to be alright now. He was just so... relieved. Tony was awake.

Taking a breath, Tony weakly squeezed Steve's hand, meeting his gaze. "Good morning, sunshine." he whispered, to which Steve's knees nearly gave out as he let out a broken laugh. That was what Tony used to always say when he woke up after an injury. Before the accident. Before he lost his memories. Before...

"You remember?" he whispered hopefully.

In response, Tony grinned and took Steve's face in his hands and promptly kissed him deeply. "God, that took way too long to wait for," he gasped when he finally broke it, leaving Steve flabbergasted.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ahem* 
> 
> I'd like to say I'm so sorry this took so long. I've been having some anxiety issues and so I had some trouble writing. 
> 
> Also, note the chapter number change. There's an epilogue. A short one for emphasis of the sequel.

"Tony..." Steve swallowed hard, but his heart was bursting in joy. _Tony remembered, he remembered! He's…!_ "Are you okay?"

"I..." he looked down at his chest, then looked at his hands and back at Steve. "am okay. Are you okay? Because my mind is a complete blur of my memory trip, but I remember pissing you off a good amount. And you-" he poked his head around Steve to Clint, who was watching anxiously, "are such a softie."

"Everything you think you experienced is a figment of your imagination." Clint growled, but continued, "glad to have you back. You should know that you didn't cease to be an asshole."

"It's in my genetic code. Natasha," he smirked at her, to which she narrowed her eyes at him. "thanks."

Natasha grunted.

"Brucie!" Tony sighed dramatically. "You were great as always."

Tony kept a firm hand on Steve's shoulder as Bruce and Tony discussed the logistics of getting his memory back, a cluster of insensible phrases. Natasha and Clint excused themselves, and Steve saw a glint in Clint's eye that hadn't been there before. Either Clint was thrilled about Tony, or they had something planned. Bruce then left too, leaving Steve and Tony alone, silent. It wasn't a bad silence, but neither of them knew what to say to each other.

Tony cleared his throat. "What happened? We were at the restaurant, and then leaving, and then I'm waking up and I've got my memory back. You know, in the way that I actually feel them to be real and not some freaky ass dream."

"I.. don't really know. You just sort of collapsed and...now you're awake and you remember." Steve trailed off with a small shake of the head. It was like what the doctors told him earlier about the seizure and brain swelling had just disappeared from his mind- he was comprehending that Tony remembered everything.

"Yeah.. oh well," Tony finally shrugged before he shifted in the hospital bed, making a face. Ugh, he hated hospitals. He was ready to get the hell out of here. "How long are they keeping me?"

"A day or two, just to be sure." Steve said. Yeah, he didn't like that either, but... it was okay with him because Tony was okay. That's all that mattered to him. "Hey, it'll be fine. Quit scowling."

"I'll stop scowling when I get out of here." Tony retorted, and then paused. "Hold up. What's the date?"

"It's Christmas, Tony." Steve said slowly, examining Tony's reaction. Tony looked surprised.

"It's only been that long? I thought it was longer. It felt longer." he shrugged. "So much for buying you Christmas presents. I don't recall my amnesia self going to the store to do some Christmas shopping."

"You being alright is enough." Steve said firmly, to which Tony snorted.

"You're such a sap, Steve. I love it. Hey, if I'm stuck here, then c'mere." he patted the bed.

Tony tried every time. Every single hospital visit. "Tony..."

"C'mon! I haven't snuggled with you in forever, and don't you miss snuggling with me?" Tony wiggled his eyebrows. Steve gave in just for the hell of it. Tony was asking for physical affection, and he hadn't for weeks. Steve was still trying to grasp the concept that Tony was back, and he knew Steve. Clearly he also knew that Steve always eventually gives up when it comes to Tony. He threw up his hands in the air and slipped carefully onto the bed next to Tony.

Tony scooted closer to Steve and rested his head on Steve's chest. "Ugh. Why the fuck didn't you just make me cuddle with you? I wouldn't have minded."

"I think you would have." Steve admonished, running his fingers through Tony's ebony hair. "We'll have to make up for time lost."

"That sounds incredibly sexy." the billionaire purred and then burst out laughing. "You're asking for it. That's weird. Usually its me."

Steve chuckled with him. "I know."

"I'm pretty sure I have the ability to lock the door over there and keep everyone out for an hour-"

"No, Tony," Steve laughed. "You have to wait."

"Evil," he whined, lifting his head off Steve's chest and getting into his face. "Why did you get evil?"

Steve pushed Tony's head closer and kissed his forehead. "Just for the hell of it. You got away with a lot, you know."

At that, Bruce walked in with a miniature Christmas tree. "Hey, guys," he muttered, face bright red. "I see you haven't wasted time."

"Do you see our clothes off? We did waste time." Tony sighed. "What's with the tree?...shit, are you actually bringing Christmas here? Absolutely not."

Steve, albeit surprised at this, started to explain to Tony they might as well. But all arguments were lost when Natasha walked in wearing a Santa hat and a bag of candy. She tossed a piece to Tony. "Be a good boy."

"I'm always a good boy." Tony scoffed, and Steve groaned.

"Ho, ho, ho, motherfuckers!" Clint strolled into the room wearing an ugly sweater (god, why does that thing exist?) and Santa hat with a bag slung over his shoulder. "You insisted to go ahead and get admitted to the hospital last night, so we're improvising."

Tony eyed Clint for a moment, seeming to look at his horrendous sweater with an expression of distaste, before he sighed. "Alright, fine. I want my presents," he told them before he was opening the piece of candy that Natasha tossed him. Steve gently nudged him, and the brunette shrugged. "What? I like presents, and I might as well open them because there's nothing better to do while stuck in a hospital bed,"he told them, before he lowered his voice and looked to Steve. "Though, like I said, I can show you a few things if you'd just-"

Steve blushed but rolled his eyes. "Tony."

"I see you're still demanding as ever," Bruce commented with a fond smile, before glancing to the door when Thor suddenly walked inside.

"Man of Iron!" he boomed, causing nurse outside the room to startle and nearly drop her armful of papers. "It is good to see you are well!"

Tony couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks, big guy," he nodded, before raising an eyebrow. "You know, Santa hats suit you."

Thor reached up to briefly touch the red hat on his head. "Yes, Clint assured me it would be a good addition to my wardrobe for the holiday." he then looked over at the archer, who still had a bag slung over his shoulder, and smiled. "Now I do believe our friend has asked about presents?" he inquired, sounding eager.

"Yeah, yeah," Clint said before he was digging into the bag, pulling out the first thing he could find. "Oh, hey. For you, Tony."

Tony gladly accepted the small box and watched in the corner of his eye Thor forcefully take the bag away from Clint despite the archer's protests that he was Santa Claus. Natasha snorted in amusement and sat down in a chair, crossing her legs as Bruce looked on in amusement.

"You should open that before Thor has a fit." Steve remarked, cutting Tony out of his daze.

"What? Oh, yeah." He blinked and started tearing off the Christmas wrapping paper off the box, and opened it up. And had to slap a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. "Are you fucking with me, Clint?"

In the box was a makeshift nest of twigs, balled up paper, and red fabric, and a tiny clay red and gold bird.

"I made that, you're welcome." Clint scoffed. "There's really not a lot to get a guy who has fucking everything and I have to be honest with you, I procrastinated."

"No, no, it's...great," he held it up, grinning, and Steve took it from him and inspected it.

"It's actually pretty good." Steve smiled, gently placing it back in the box. "I'm sure Tony appreciates it."

"Point taken, Steve. Thanks, Clint." Tony nodded at him, and Clint fist pumped the air. "Let's move on to next lucky sucker, shall we?"

*

In the next hour, presents were tossed back and forth. Steve got his own nest with a patriotic-looking bird, Captain America socks (Natasha was a true ironic, it turns out), and charcoal pencils of different shading. Clint received a bow necklace (again, the irony and Natasha) and regular white socks that he always lost anyway. Natasha got yet another knife that brought an ever present smile to her face, and Bruce got Hulk boxers (Clint's doing, this time).

There was more, Tony knew, but after a bit...Steve was snuggled up against him, warm and familiar and there, it was enough for Tony to start to fade from giving snarky replies to being half asleep and head lolling on Steve's shoulder. He was a genius, after all, so yes, he could tell the others were pretending not to notice. While Thor and Clint tried to convince an appalled Bruce to try on his Hulk boxers and Natasha slipped out, saying something about getting coffee, Tony mumbled, "Hey, Steve?"

"Yes, Tony?"

"You should ask J'vis about m' Christmas presents."

"What do you mean? You just-" Steve thought about it, "Wait. You actually did buy Christmas presents before the accident?"

"No, after...few days before the date thingy, I think?" Tony wrinkled his nose and stared up at Steve blearily. "Don't remember what they are or where, but I got somethin'."

"Okay. I should go and take a shower back at the Tower anyway, will you be okay if I leave for a bit while you're sleeping?"

"Mm-hmm. I got the good drugs." Tony yawned, and then waved a hand. "Personal guardian angels, too."

Steve left soon to go clean up at the tower, showering and changing clothes. He packed up a few things that he thought Tony might like, since he wasn't entirely sure how long the doctors would want to keep him under observation, before he remembered what he had said about the presents. Jarvis informed him where they were located, and he set off to find them so he could bring them to the team. However, he got interrupted by a call from Clint.

"Mister Grumpypants wants you to bring him coffee when you come back. The Italian roast he likes.. or something like that., I dunno, you'll figure it out.

Smiling fondly, Steve shook his head. "Tell Tony he'll just have to wait on the coffee.. and tell him to go back to sleep. He needs to rest." He hung up a moment later, still smiling as he thought about Tony... and, wow, was this real life? Had Tony really remembered everything? It was like a dream come true and he just couldn't keep himself from smiling. Tony would laugh at him for saying this, but it was a Christmas miracle

Now that he thinks it, it does sound pretty cliché.

Steve went to the gallery where apparently Tony had stuffed presents right before their date, and what do you know, badly wrapped presents awaited him. Steve grinned.

His phone rang, and Steve answered without looking at the caller ID, "Steve Rogers."

_"Steve! It's Pepper."_

"Hi, Pepper." Steve said warmly. "Merry Christmas."

_"You, too, Steve. Can you send Tony down? I have a delivery."_

Steve's smile wavered just a bit. "I'm sorry, Pep. Tony's not here. He's in the hospital-"

 _"What?!"_ Pepper shrieked and Steve had to move the phone from his ear a little bit. _"What happened?"_

"We went out on a date last night, and he had a seizure as we left. He's fine, don't worry. In fact, some good came out of it." Steve tried to assure her. "Tony got his memory back."

There was a long silence before Pepper gave an exasperated little laugh and Steve could see her, in his mind, bracing herself against the wall and rest her forehead. _"Only Tony."_

"Of course." Steve agreed. "I can send him the delivery if you want."

Pepper paused. _"I guess there's not much of an option. It can't really, you know, wait."_

Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"

*

Steve was going to talk to Tony big time. Pepper had said that it was Tony's big present to all the Avengers, but she also said that Tony mentioned that Thor would like it specifically.

That's when Steve recalled Thor saying they should adopt a kitten.

Which led to Pepper handing him the cardboard box covered in a blanket, apologizing profusely that she had get back to her family and Rhodey, and then Steve realizing that Pepper was right, it really couldn't wait.

When Steve finally pulled the blanket back to peer into the box, he was met with a small bundle of fur staring up at him with big brown eyes. Oh, wow. This little cat was far more... adorable than he'd expected. "Well, hello there, little thing. Aren't you cute?" he smiled, and the kitten gave a small meow in response. He reached in the pet it, and the fuzzy animal rubbed against his hand appreciatively, purring loudly. "Well, you are going to be a favorite, that's for sure." He chuckled, but he was definitely going to talk to Tony about this.

He then gathered everything else and headed back to the hospital.

Thor, of course, was happiest about the kitten. He whooped with joy, thanking Tony profusely, before trying to explain to Natasha that having a cat in the tower would be enjoyable. She didn't seem to agree, and Clint warned her that she'd better not use the kitten as target practice for throwing her knives.

Steve rolled his eyes as he listened to the conversation, before carefully nudging slightly. "You just had to, didn't you?"

Smirking, Tony looked at Steve. "That's not fair. My amnesia self did it for me. But yeah, in a way I totally did." He said simply. "Admit it, you love it."

As the team each passed around the kitten to greet their new member, Bruce brought pizza and despite Steve 's warnings to Tony to take it slow, the billionaire scarfed two slices down like he hadn't eaten in days. Natasha, now holding the kitten in a strangely protective cuddle, shook her head and and gently thumped Tony's head.

"Save some for me."

Through his last mouthful, Tony quipped, "You're on kitty duty."

"Friend Stark, what are the rest of the presents for?" Thor boomed happily, reaching over and rubbing his index finger against the kitten's cheek, who purred happily from the attention.

"I got some stuff for you guys so find your gift and open it," Tony waved a hand as he reached over, stealing Steve's last piece of pizza crust from his plate.

Eyeing the presents, Natasha snorted as she saw how they were packaged. "I can see you wrapped these yourself, Stark."

"Shut up," Tony replied immediately, laughing as Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes at the comment. "Hey, I tried. Doesn't that count for something?"

"I suppose," the super soldier replied, swatting Tony's hand away when he tried to get another piece of pizza. "Hey. Take it slow." He told him, before hearing a yelp from Clint as the kitten launched itself at the archer.

Meowing, the cat perched itself on Clint's shoulder, nuzzling the side of his head with a purr. "Well look at that. He likes me." He grinned.

"If he likes you, then you're teaching him to use the litter box." Tony smirked, to which Clint scoffed and cuddled the kitten closer.

"I'll just make Natasha do it," he muttered.

"No, you won't." Natasha growled.

"Before this becomes a bloodbath," Bruce interjected, an amused smile playing at his lips, "we should pick a name for him."

"And we know its a...him, right?" Clint lifted the kitten and peeked. "Okay, we're good. It's a him."

Tony rubbed his face with his hand. "It's on the adoption papers, Clint. I could have told you."

Clint scowled and then shrugged. "Anyway, we should name him Barry."

"Why in the hell would we name him Barry?" Tony asked incredulously.

"We should name him of Asgard!" Thor exclaimed. Tony groaned, protesting that he'd never be able to pronounce it. Whether verbally or silently, the others agreed.

"For fucks sakes-"

"Don't swear around him," Clint hissed, and was met with a few odd stares.

"Give him here, Barton." Tony rolled his eyes, and Clint hesitantly passed off the kitten in question. The kitten walked across Tony's lap and then sat, batting at Tony's shirt. "Let's see, a little grayish color, brown eyes, calm for a kitten...we should name him Phil."

There was a silence. "As in...Phil Coulson Phil?" Steve asked.

Tony nodded, scratching at the kitten's chin. "Good as any."

"I like it," Clint declared. "His name is Phil now."

No one objected, so Tony lifted Phil and held him high. "Welcome to the Avengers, Phil."

After that, Thor demanded to hold the kitten, and he let Phil perch on his shoulder as the rest of the gifts were handed out.

Grinning, Clint opened up a new scope for his bow, squinting as he looked it over. "Hm. Definitely need to try this out- whoa!" he ducked his head as Natasha's gift, a new knife, went flying across the room. "Watch it!" The woman just laughed as she went to retrieve it.

Shaking his head, Bruce was next, opening a box that contained a large shipment of his favorite kind of tea, straight from India. He'd nearly run out of this blend in the tower. Smiling, he glanced to Tony. "Thanks," he murmured, but then his attention was on Thor as he opened his present. "Tony... did you really get Thor a gift card to the all-you-can-eat buffet on Third Street? You..well, how much is it worth anyways?"

"Look, it's enough so the big guy can have quite a few meals there. And hey, do you see him complaining?" He motioned to Thor, who really seemed delighted with his gift. "See? Knew he'd like it." He was then waving his hand at the others, because now it was Steve's turn to open.

Steve just shook his head at that, though he was smiling as he carefully ripped into his present, wondering what on earth Tony could've gotten him. "Really, Tony, you didn't have to," he said, but his husband just nudged his shoulder. Taking a breath, he pulled out the box, blinking as he realized what it was- an array of blue art supplies, ranging from paint to pencils and even a crayon, though he was sure that the crayon was in there mostly for a joke. The color of the supplies, however, was what had Steve smiling, because it was something he was so picky about when coloring in a sketch.

The arc reactor.

He had to get the blue shading just right or else he fussed, and this color that Tony had now shocked him up on, was absolutely perfect. "Thank you," he murmured, turning his head to kiss the brunette. "I love it."

Tony accepted the kiss, smiling slightly against Steve's lips. "Ah, well, you know. Still thoughtful for you even if I don't remember you."

Steve tucked the art supplies to his chest. "Well, it's a good present. And it means a lot, Tone. So thank you. Like I said, I love it."

"And I love you," Tony singsonged, batting his eyelashes and then smirking cheekily at Clint. "Who's up for a round of cards?"

*

A few hours of "War" and "Go Fish", and two and half visits from Dr. Reynolds checking up on him and doing a few follow up tests, and Tony was just about done. There were too many people in the room, too crowded, and all he wanted right now was a Steve. He smiled and laughed per usual, snarked, made unnecessary sexual jokes.

He was tired, and he wanted his Steve.

"You guys should get us some...what time of the day is it?" Tony pretended not to know. He's a genius, of course he knows.

"Dinnertime, just about." Bruce reported. "Why?"

"Anthony Edward Stark, are you trying to get rid of us?" Clint mock gasped.

"Yes." Tony put a hand on either side of Steve's cheeks. "Minus one."

"That's rude." Clint waved a finger accusingly.

"C'mon, I just want a half an hour with my husband who hasn't been my husband for weeks." Tony moaned, laying back on his pillows. "And I want food. That's good too."

"No fooling around." Clint said, pointing at Tony. "Because I do not want to walk in on that."

"Oh, come on. Who says we can't?" Tony glanced to Steve with a small smirk. "Because I think-"

"As a doctor, I'm saying you need to relax. Also, I can have it arranged for a nurse to stop in every five minutes," Bruce piped up, laughing at the look Tony gave him. "What? I mean it, you really do need to rest, Tony. It's important."

Steve nodded. "Yes. Important," he looked at Tony sternly.

"All of you hate me!" Tony sighed dramatically, but he still seemed happy enough when the others were filing out of the room to find some food. He smiled, looking at Steve, letting out a small sigh. "Well. Alone at last."

"Don't look at me like that, Tony." Steve said, patting his arm gently. "Not happening."

"I know," Tony harrumphed and then looked at Steve seriously. "Nothing's changed between us, right? I didn't...fuck it all up?"

Steve thought of the first few weeks and how he'd started to believe that he'd never be with Tony again, at least until his plane crash. His husband had been brash, angry, and an asshole, and not in the way they'd come to love. Or rather, it was, but they were getting used to him again. It honestly wouldn't be fair to hold that against Tony.

Something did, however, change between them. Steve had never felt so...separated from Tony like this before. He couldn't exactly get an exact definition what that meant, but it was no question that he and Tony had a lot to talk about either way. "No. No, Tony. I'm not angry, I'm not questioning us. Besides, you fell in love with me twice. That's got to mean something, right?"

Tony stared at him, a small frown decorating his face, but he nodded, his shoulders relaxing. "You'll have to fill me in on everything. Don't spare the lovely details."

Steve squeezed Tony's shoulder. "Okay."

Tony's eyes flickered to Steve's hand on his shoulder and back to Steve. "I pray to whatever god is out there that you won't..." Tony cleared his throat awkwardly, "you know. Leave me."

"Tony, I couldn't. I really couldn't. You were so intent on driving me away while you...weren't yourself and I wouldn't, couldn't leave you. I won't leave you, Tones. Period." Steve promised.

Tony didn't really look too convinced, and Steve sighed softly. "I mean it." He shifted to cup Tony's face between his hands, making the billionaire look at him. "Okay? I'm not going anywhere. I couldn't leave you, so don't you dare think otherwise."

After a moment, Tony nodded, giving Steve a little smile. "Alright," he said, before reaching up to grasp one of Steve's hands tightly. "Thank you."

"Course. I love you," Steve replied before he leaned in to kiss Tony's forehead, relaxing back with him once more.

"Love you, too," he murmured in reply, squeezing Steve's hand tightly with a little smile. "I'm, uh, y'know. Glad to be back." He tapped his temple, relieved that the struggle to regain his memories was finally over, and they could attempt to have some normalcy (well, as much normalcy as a superhero couple could have) in their lives again. He figured it was safe to say that Steve felt the same way, considering he could actually have his husband back, the way things were supposed to be.


End file.
